


Blackbird

by eugyne (AreteNike)



Series: The Global Appellation, Licensing, and Reparation Association for Superhumans [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Amnesia, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Illustrated, Kinda, M/M, Past Character Death, is there a tag for like dealing with a past injury, lance is a disaster bi lmao, not so much a slow burn as a love that RISES FROM THE ASHES, some one-sided shance, thats going to be hilarious once you get there. or rlly sad. maybe both?, tragic backstories abound
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-26 14:18:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 90,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15002672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AreteNike/pseuds/eugyne
Summary: It's hard enough protecting a city from demonswithoutyour team's former nemesis showing up to help, even if he doesn't remember anything he did, but Lance can handle it. He's a hero, after all.





	1. waving your gun at somebody new

**Author's Note:**

> oh my god its finally time to post and im not. done. but i have a lot ready so. here we go!
> 
> this is for the vld supernova bang!! art will be by [astraia](https://crystalpallette.tumblr.com/), [kei](http://amarukei.tumblr.com/), and [liviemomo](http://liviemomo.tumblr.com/).
> 
> [heres a playlist!](https://open.spotify.com/user/1252820882/playlist/3tGXTSmD2vtt1JJPtTW8pB?si=TGWoa5O7Q2ecKUJWTm2tCw) chapter titles will be from these songs unless i forget thats a thing im doing. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> OH YEAH AND YOU DONT HAVE TO READ PART ONE OF THIS SERIES IF YOU DONT WANT its pretty angsty and spoils some stuff anyway ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [lost cause - beck](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qkNa5xzOe5U)

"Hey, Popsicle!"

Lance closes his eyes and turns with all the attitude he can muster (which is quite a bit). " _Icicle._ What?"

He expects to find a grinning Pigeon, as usual, when he opens his eyes. He does find Pidge, but she's not grinning.

"Reinforcements," she says, and nods over her shoulder. The building they're in used to be full of offices; now the foyer is a makeshift headquarters, and upstairs a temporary shelter for residents displaced by the crisis. So, the group of civilians walking in isn't unusual—what is, is that they're armed.

"Demon hunters," Lance says with a frown. Right, that was supposed to happen this morning. "Is it one of the official groups, at least?"

Pidge snorts. "As official as they get, yeah. But look who's with them."

Lance looks, as the rest of group files in. He doesn't see him, at first—he's holding the door open for the rest—but when he walks in and the door shuts behind him Lance recognizes him instantly. The white tuft of hair across his forehead, the scar across his nose, the prosthetic arm.

The scar is from Pidge; the hair is Lance's doing. The arm was a team effort.

"Shit," he says.

"Yeah," says Pidge.

"He won't recognize us, will he? Shit, why's he here?" Lance runs a hand through his short hair, undoubtedly making it stand up at an odd angle. He smooths it back down in the same motion.

"He _shouldn't_ recognize us, but he definitely shouldn't be in close proximity this often." Pidge makes a face. "They do background checks, but it's not like they can say anything that'll make him suspicious, and, well. They're desperate."

"Desperate enough to let in fucking _Champion?_ " Lance hisses. The group has spotted them by now, but most seem content to wait and look around at the dusty ruin they stand in, and the staff and civilians within. A few, though, are making their way closer, the man in question included.

"Apparently!" Pidge hisses back. "What do we do!?"

Shit. He doesn't have time to make a plan, the guy'll be in hearing range any second.

"Act civil," he says quickly. "He can't know there's anything wrong."

She purses her lips but there's no time to respond. He's upon them, ready with a friendly smile and a hand out to shake—the real one, Lance notes.

"Hi there!" says their former nemesis, cheerfully. "I'm Shiro, leader of this little band of demon hunters." He nods over his shoulder—the group has thirty or so members, it's probably one of the larger ones out there, actually. Who the hell put him in charge of so many people? "We're here to help out with the infestation. We're at your disposal, so just point us in the right direction and we'll get to work." He smiles.

Pidge shifts, subtly elbowing Lance's good arm. Lance plasters a grin across his own face and surreptitiously wipes his sweaty palms against his pants.

"Hey, man," he says. He stiffly lifts his own hand and hesitates a moment—he _knows_ there's nothing the guy can do like this, but the thought of touching him is still _viscerally_ uncomfortable, and he has to use his bad arm besides—before shaking his hand. He lets go quickly, still. "The second floor's been cleared out for you, have your group go ahead and get settled. We'll have something for you to do soon."

"Great! Thanks," says Shiro, and he turns to head back to the group. The two that'd come with him linger, though.

"Jesus fuck," Lance mutters.

"You get used to him, I promise," drawls one of the demon hunters. "He's actually really nice."

"Unexpectedly so," the other, prettier one agrees. "I'm Nyma, and this is Rolo. We'll try to keep him away from you guys, but he's had to deal with everyone in the group being weird about it and still hasn't noticed, so we're probably safe."

"I don't like it," says Pidge. "It's wrong just..." She gestures. "Letting him walk around like that."

"Well, feel free to talk to us instead," says Rolo. "We're second in command of the squad, so it won't be too odd to pass instructions through us."

"Don't mind if I do," says Lance, and winks at Nyma. She giggles, and Pidge elbows him again, hard this time. "Right, well. Go ahead and get organized. We'll probably be heading out in a couple of hours."

"Thanks, Icicle," Nyma says with a warm smile—he’d make a joke about melting if he weren’t still shaken—and the two follow Shiro back to the rest of the hunters. Lance takes a deep breath and sags on the exhale, and wills his pulse to slow the fuck down again.

"Is it too late to get transferred somewhere else?" Pidge muses lowly.

"Don't leave me, Pidge, I'll die."

She glances over at him, a tiny smirk quirking the corner of her lips. "Yeah, you would," she says. "Just don't put him on my team."

"Maybe I can foist him off on Hunk, he wasn't there."

" _Bunker,_ Pops."

" _Icicle_."

"Hypocrite."

"So are you."

Pidge grins innocently at him. Whatever. He shrugs, and they stand in companionable silence for a minute.

"Anyway," she says eventually, "since he's their leader, and you're our leader, he's supposed to be on your team."

"...Fuck."

She pats his arm, but her face grows serious. "Think of it this way: you can keep an eye on him in case something goes wrong. Bunker won't know what to look for."

"Because he wasn't there." Lance drags a hand down his face; there's really no way around this. "Yeah, I guess. What is it they always say: keep your friends close, but your enemies closer?"

"Yep." She whacks him on the shoulder. "Godspeed."

"You got my back, though?"

"Always."

"Good." Lance straightens up. This is a shitty situation but damn if he's not gonna make the most of it; it's his job, and whatever pain he himself might deserve, the city doesn't. "Go check up on the scouts, okay? The hunters are here, we might as well put 'em to work."

"Gotcha." She grins, and shrugs out of her jacket, tossing it to him and turning to reveal that her shirt is backless. Her wings, the same tawny color as her short hair, unfold out of her back as she heads out the door, making the remaining hunters in the foyer stop and stare.

"Guess she's called Pigeon for a reason, huh?" a familiar voice says next to him. Lance starts badly, almost dropping Pidge's jacket.

"Sorry, sorry," Shiro says, with a friendly chuckle. "Didn't mean to startle you. I just wanted to let you know we've just about finished moving our gear."

"Uh, right, yeah," Lance stammers. Dammit, he'd just gotten his heart rate back under control. "I told your seconds, but we're gonna send you guys out in a couple hours, so don't get too cozy." _Especially you,_ he adds silently. "Pigeon's out to check on the scouts."

"Alright, thank you," Shiro says. "Can I ask how you plan to organize us? We've got 35 members, including me, if that helps."

Why the hell is he so _polite,_ this is bizarre. "Teams of seven, then. One of us will take each team to a hotspot or two; we’ll double up if there's anything out there higher than a class two right now. I don't know your capabilities yet so I don't want to take any chances." Well, he knows Shiro's capabilities. Though... not _without_ his powers, actually. "Feel free to split up the group as you see fit, you know them best."

"I'll do that." Shiro nods. "Thanks again. I'll let you know when we're ready."

"'Kay." Lance watches him walk away back towards the stairs, casually, like he hadn't all but razed a major city singlehandedly and fucked up a few others. This is gonna be a hell of a day. Week. Month. Year? This situation is indefinite, isn't it? Fuck.

* * *

The foyer is too loud for shouting, but when Polly lights the place up the crowd quiets quickly. Lance waits until her light has faded almost to nothing before removing his sunglasses and climbing onto the nearest table, regarding the blinking hunters with a sort of schadenfreudal pleasure.

"Can everyone hear me!?" he hollers, and waits for their murmured assent. "Cool. Here's the sitch—we've got a couple of packs of class ones roaming out there, I'm gonna need two teams out after those, with Pigeon and Bunker. Clear?" Another murmur. "Cool. The rest of you will be coming with me, Pollyanna, and Jagdhund. We got a class four downtown." He waits for another murmur, this one louder and agitated, before continuing. "Send y'all's leadership up this way, thanks."

"'Y'all's'? Very dignified, captain," Pidge mutters. "Didja have to ask for you-know-who, though?"

"It's what I'm supposed to do," Lance says under the crowd's renewed chatter, as he climbs back down. "What d'you think I should've done, just ask for his seconds?"

"It wouldn't be _that_ weird."

"It's not too late to trade you out for Chase, y'know."

"Complaint rescinded, sir."

"Atta girl."

Shiro emerges from the crowd shortly, followed closely by Nyma and Rolo. Lance still tenses at the sight of him, an instinctive reaction after all this time; yeah, it's gonna take some getting used to.

"Whyyy did he end up here," he mutters under his breath. Pidge snorts.

"Icicle," says Shiro. "We're ready when you are."

"Good. I figured you'd send your seconds out with the class one teams; you've got a way to contact each other, I assume?"

"Yep." Nyma lifts a radio from her belt and waves it.

"Cool. If you need to contact the main group at all, use those. If there's an emergency, use 'em and get outta there, we're not about to lose anyone today—though I doubt you will, you're just fighting class ones." Lance rocks back on his heels. "If _we_ have an emergency, Polly'll make a beacon like she did just now—my folks know to look for it, but it wouldn't hurt for you to keep an eye out, too. Aaaand if there is and you're in a position to help, just don't be an idiot about it. Defer to Pigeon and Bunker, they know what's up. I think that's about it."

"Noted," says Rolo, and Nyma and Shiro nod.

"Great. We'll all head out together in ten, so make sure your teams know who they're following." He flaps his hands at them. "Go forth, my minions."

Shiro chuckles—Lance all but gapes at him in a startled sort of almost-panic—and the three head back to organize the hunters. Lance leans back against the table and lets out a long breath.

"God, this is nerve wracking," he complains. "I'm so _tense._ Who wants to give your illustrious leader a shoulder massage, eh? Eh?"

He glances over. His team looks back with expressions ranging from fond, amused exasperation, to just exasperation.

"No one? Lame." He stretches, and straightens up, shaking himself out. "Alright. Let's get this show on the road."

* * *

"So," says Hunk, as the group walks through the empty parts of the city, "how'd you come to be a demon hunter?"

Lance and Pidge exchange a tense look. There's nothing they can say that won't raise suspicion, but it figures that if anyone was gonna (unknowingly?) toe the line, it'd be the newbie.

Still should've _talked_ to him about it, Lance laments silently. The photos might all be locked away but it's not like he doesn't _recognize_ the guy, right?

"I just wanted to help," Shiro answers with a smile. "There were plenty of volunteers, but no one wanted to take charge, so I stepped forward. We had a lot of dropouts but we're the most certified group in the area."

He speaks with obvious pride. God, Lance can't get _over_ this.

"What'd you do before this, then?" Hunk continues, and there's a subtle, collective gasp. Lance falls back a bit and steps on the back of Hunk's heel on purpose, but Hunk barely even glances back.

"Government office job." Shiro shrugs, grins, oblivious. "Pretty boring. I don't know how I ended up there, actually; I was in some sort of accident at the end of the Hero Crisis and I don't remember a thing from that whole year. I was lucky they took me back."

"Wow," says Hunk, like he's genuinely interested. Nyma clears her throat.

"Bunk, can I borrow you for a sec?" Pidge says, in that overly sweet tone she uses when she's not fucking around. She grabs his arm and holds him back before he can respond, letting the crowd move forward around them. Which leaves Lance to slide up into Hunk's place to distract Shiro.

"Don't mind them," he says smoothly. "So. You sound pretty proud of your hunters, huh?"

Shiro perks right up, hell, good choice Lance. "Yes! Most of the current group had some kind of weapons training prior even to signing up, and we had about half a parkour gym join up—and a few ex-military. We've got the best of the best here."

("Thanks, boss," Rolo drawls quietly.)

"Cool, cool. You guys've actually fought demons before, though, right?"

"A bit, yes. Your team's done a good job of it so far, though, so we haven't had much to do." He smiles.

"Thanks?" God, this is the most disconcerting conversation Lance has ever had. "It'll be nice to have a hand—I mean, help." He glances down at Shiro's prosthetic arm, the patterns and wires printed across it.

Shiro snorts lightly. “You can have a hand, so long as I can keep the other. I’m running low, you see.”

Nyma sighs and Rolo groans, and Shiro just grins in response. Not even the slightest bit mad. Hell, he made a _joke._ Where's the guy that terrorized the northeast for a year? If he forgot everything, is this what he was like _before_ that? How the hell could he have changed so much?

Lance's brain is hurting just thinking about it.

"...Right. Ever fought a class four, then?" he asks.

"Once, but it was already injured, probably by another four. We didn't stick around to find out."

Lance nods. "Well, you'll get to fight one for real today. Speaking of..." He turns to walk backward. "Pidge! Hunk! Time to split!"

"Aye-aye, Captain!" Pidge hollers back, unseen in the crowd. Hunk waves acknowledgement. Lance turns forward again as they shout to their teams—Rolo and Nyma fall back to join them.

"Hunk?" Shiro questions.

"Bunk. Bunker. I started calling him that as a joke and it stuck." Lance shrugs. "Suits him, though."

Shiro hums in agreement. Oh, no, nope, Lance is gonna nip that in the bud, no. Hunk is way too good to get into anything with this guy.

"Too bad he's straight," he lies quickly. Smooth, yep. Someone snorts nearby.

Shiro smirks, a little. "I take it you're not, then?"

Fuck. "Ahaha." Fuck fuck fuck. "Well, y'know." He waves a hand vaguely. _Fuck._ "Anyway, we're getting close. Better get ready. 'Scuse me." And he all but sprints to the front of the group to catch up with Polly and Chase, panic closing his throat and making him wheeze. Ah, god, he just accidentally kinda came out to goddamn _Champion,_ shit, fuck.

Oh _god_ was that flirting, did Shiro _flirt_ with him, _shit._

"Are... you okay?" Polly asks when he reaches them.

"Fantastic," Lance squeaks. He clears his throat. "Uh, you guys ready?"

"As ever." Chase claps him on the back. "Tired of entertaining Champion?"

"Shh!" Lance elbows him. "Don't use that name when he's nearby."

"Worrywart."

" _Whatever._ We're almost there, right?" Lance looks ahead. The streets here are empty, too close to the local spawn point for anyone to live here anymore; there's a few broken windows and a single wrecked car, but otherwise it looks pretty normal. Just... empty.

"Another block, then left," says Chase. "We'll probably have to do some tracking—and by 'we' I mean 'I'—but that's where it was last seen."

"Cool. Call a halt halfway down the block just to be safe." Lance purses his lips. "Shit, I gotta go back and talk to him again, don't I?"

"Better you than me," says Chase.

"I'll do it for you, if you really don't want to," says Polly.

"Thanks, Polly," Lance says, even as he casually flips Chase off, "but I'm not gonna make you do that." He presses a fist against his chest, looking upward into the distance. "It is my burden as leader to carry out the tasks too unsavory to delegate."

"If only that applied to cleaning the headquarters' bathroom," Chase mutters.

"Shut it, you, that's up to Coran. Go scout ahead, see if you can sniff anything out—or see anything, for that matter. Polly, we're gonna stop by that orange awning, so stay in the lead for now. I'm gonna go do my thing."

"Sure," she says. Chase nods, and takes a couple jogging steps forward, transforming smoothly into an enormous loping bloodhound. Lance can't help but grin at the hunters’ murmured reactions; he's used to his teams' powers by now but others seeing them up close never get old. No time to linger and laugh, though. He falls back through the crowd to find Shiro.


	2. ready for the fight, and fate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [iron - woodkid](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vSkb0kDacjs)

"Icicle," Shiro greets him when Lance falls into stride with him. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier."

"Huh? Oh, no, it's fine, you didn't," Lance says quickly. Untrue, but he'd be uncomfortable anyway. "Listen, see that orange awning up ahead? We're gonna stop there, the demon was last seen around the next corner."

Shiro looks ahead and nods. "Alright."

"So, spread the word, do whatever you gotta to prepare. Ideally we can get in and hit it hard before it can do too much damage, but Polly's ready with healing and light if we need it." Lance looks around. "You guys heard that?"

A few people nod or give an affirmative, and he lets out a breath. He is _so_ not comfortable with leaving this all in _Champion's_ hands.

Though, the guy _was_ known for his competency. Ugh.

"I'll make sure the team is ready," says Shiro.

"Sweet, you do that," Lance says, and falls back to check for stragglers.

He hasn't even made it to the back of the group, yet, when he hears loud barking. He swears and runs forward, pushing through the crowd to the front, to see Chase still in dog form barrelling back around the corner. Heavy, audible footsteps follow at a quick pace.

"SCATTER!" Lance shouts, and the hunters do, spreading out across the street in pairs. Training, he thinks. Good. Shiro runs up to join him and Polly, as the demon skids out of the side street and onto the main road in front of them. Shit, it's huge. Lance's mind is going a mile a minute.

"Pol, fall back, but not too far. Shiro, we're gonna surround it, but range first. You got anything long-range?"

"Crossbows."

That’s typical for hunters—guns are too loud. "Fire as soon as Chase—Jagdhund—is out of the way." He almost is. "Go!"

"Rangers!" Shiro shouts behind him, gesturing. "Ready!"

Moment of truth, Lance thinks, dropping to a crouch as Chase scrambles in and almost collides with him. Time to see how Champion fares.

"FIRE!"

An impressive volley flies by over his head. The demon recoils as the bolts spray against it—the damage is minimal, but it slows it down, for the moment.

Then the demon wails, and an answering call echoes out over the ruins moments later. _Shit._

"POL!" Lance screams, turning. "Beacon, NOW!" If a class four is calling for backup, the _best_ they can expect is a class three incoming. "Chase, tell Shiro to radio, we've got an unknown incoming, ETA unknown."

Chase, still a dog, coughs, and gallops back towards Shiro. Another volley of bolts shoots by as the street lights up unnaturally bright.

Time to join in, Lance decides; can't leave it all to civs, after all. He presses a hand flat against the ground, and ice shoots away along the road in a narrow path, widening when it reaches the demon.

"When it goes down," he shouts over his shoulder, "get in there!"

"We're ready!" Shiro responds. Lance pushes the ice farther, and then right beneath the demon's feet, lifting it off the pavement's traction. He pushes—the demon roars, and slips, and crashes down with a heavy _thud_ that rattles the wrecked car nearby.

"GO!" Shiro shouts before Lance can. Instead, he just pushes his ice higher, encasing the demon's limbs as it tries to get back up. The hunters rush by, shouting, ready with ropes and hooks and whatever close-range weapons they have—he spies not a few swords among them. Chase leads the charge with a howl.

Lance focuses on keeping the demon down—it'd be hard to kill even if it weren't fighting back. Someone crouches by his side in his periphery.

"The other teams are on their way," Shiro reports, and Lance resists glancing over, trying to keep the instinctual panic at bay.

"Keep an eye out for the other demon. Dunno where it'll show up, or when."

"I've got a few hunters on lo—" Shiro cuts himself off, and then suddenly Lance is yanked backwards by the shoulders—lifted bodily off his feet—and falls, curling inward protectively as an entire car crashes heavily down where he'd been crouched moments before. He lands on something somewhat more forgiving than pavement, but rolls off onto his bad arm and barely bites back the yell of pain as he stumbles to his feet. He looks back; Shiro's getting up now, he must have pulled Lance back— _Champion just saved his life, holy—_

A roar. There's a second demon standing where the car had been, _definitely_ a class four and no smaller than the first. Shit, and he's gone and wrecked himself when the fight's barely begun.

He glances around. Two-thirds of the hunters are on the demon he iced, still down. Chase is there, too. Several hunters are facing away despite the undoubtedly loud car crash, some are facing in, lifting weapons. Polly's coming in at a run.

"Rangers keep it at bay," Lance gasps in Shiro's general direction. "Those on the first should stay there. Can't split resources." Then he's running to meet Polly, hoping Shiro understood his admittedly sparse instructions.

"Rangers! Keep the demon back until the first one's dead!" Okay, good.

Polly all but collides with him. "Are you okay, I saw—"

"Fine, I'm fine—any injuries yet?"

"Nothing serious." Her hand on his arm numbs the pain but it won't last long.

"Stay vigilant." Lance looks up, scanning the skies for any sign of Pidge. "Watch these guys too, if the newcomer breaks through they're in trouble."

"Aye, Captain." She places a glowing hand on his cheek for a moment—there's a brief flash of pain, ah, he hadn't even realized he'd been hurt elsewhere—and jogs off. He looks back again; the new demon is approaching, but slowly, fighting a relentless onslaught of crossbow bolts.

He starts off toward the first one. It's hard to tell with the crowd thoroughly surrounding it, but it seems to be too injured to get up while under attack—that's good. The sooner they kill it the sooner they can focus on the second one.

It roars, then, and there's a human cry, and some yelling in response. He gets a glimpse of _red_ and takes off at a run, around to the other side—two down, two more stumbling back, the demon's arm free and flailing. Ice crackles beneath his feet as he dodges in and grips the collars of the two downed hunters; he drags them back across his ice despite his arm's protests, out of range, as Polly arrives.

He doesn't need to say anything; she nods, and he steps forward to the gap in the circle, Polly's light casting his shadow sharply across the demon's side.

When its arm swings around next, he steps in, lifting his own stiff arms, ice bursting across them and up his legs. The claws crack heavily against his shield, but it holds, the ice encasing him up to his thighs keeping him upright and in place. It's his own muscles keeping him from bending over backward, though, and he groans under the pressure, using his support as leverage to push back against the weight.

Blindly, he reaches out with the ice, seeking to capture the arm here before it can swing back and hurt anyone else. It doesn't pull back, though—instead there's the groan of ice under pressure as the demon's claws curl in toward him, pressing into and around his shield.

"Armpit's a weak point," he gasps at whoever's closest. "Get in there! I'll hold it." And he shuts his eyes, reinforces his shield, and waits. The demon jerks, now and then, but he holds fast.

"ICE!"

The shout comes a minute or so in, and he lifts his head in time to see Pidge drop out of the sky, taloned-boots-first, directly onto the demon. It squeals, loudly, and its arm jerks sharply in Lance's grip, almost dislodging him from his ice.

"S'about time," he says, rather more weakly than he means to.

"Hang in, Pops," she says. "Polly?"

"In a second!"

Pidge flaps her wings, lifting up off the demon, talons retracting from its thick hide. She comes down again with all of her slight weight on its near shoulder, making its arm shudder again. Lance chokes back a whimper; his whole body is shaking from the strain.

Then a hand presses between his shoulders, filling him with energy and taking away the pain.

"Where's Hunk?" he asks, looking up as Polly's healing takes effect.

"Fending off the other one," says Pidge, now stomping into the demon's shoulder repeatedly. It jerks with every step, making Lance lurch in turn. "We really lucked out today, huh?"

"You have an odd definition of luck, Birdy," says Polly.

"I was being sarcastic," says Pidge, with a grunt as she thrusts her foot down again. "But we do have the hunters here, so maybe I'm unintentionally correct."

"Less talk, more murder," Lance says through gritted teeth. Even with Polly's help and the ice creeping further up his body, the strain is wearing on him. And don't even get him _started_ on his arm.

"Aye-aye, Captain."

"Polly," he adds. "If there's anyone needing healing—"

"I'm keeping an eye out," she assures him.

"Don't wear yourself out—"

" _You_ still have another demon to fight."

Right. He groans. Pidge snickers.

The demon shudders violently then, sending her flapping for balance—Lance's ice shield cracks loudly. He chances a look around it; the demon's hide is starting to fracture of its own accord, and its eyes are clouding over. Death throes.

"Everyone back, now!" he shouts. He holds out until Pidge has lifted clear, and Polly's hand gone from his back; then he releases the arm and stumbles back out of his icy supports. The crackling is audible now, and he gestures quickly towards the other demon as this one writhes.

"Good work!" he hollers, as the demon slowly combusts from the inside. "Get to the next one!"

There's a few shouts, a few groans, and a lot of labored breathing as the crowd clears the area. Pidge lands beside Lance and lifts his arm—the good one, she knows better than to go tugging on his bad arm when it's been stressed—over her shoulder and walks him towards the other demon. The crossbows have long since stopped—low on ammo, maybe, or they've switched to melee—but Hunk has a solid wall up keeping it reined in and Chase is doing a great job of pestering it.

"How'd the class ones go," Lance puffs.

"Didn't even get there," says Pidge. "You called for help right away."

"Had to."

"Oh, I'm not blaming you for it. What if it'd been a class five?"

Lance groans.

"Exactly."

"We'll still have to go clear 'em out, y'know," he says.

"Well, yeah, but this takes priority."

"Yeah."

The second demon doesn't seem to be tiring yet, which is dumb and unfair, because Lance is exhausted. Still, he extricates himself from Pidge when Shiro spots them and approaches, because tired or not he's not gonna interact with the guy without both hands free. Or, at least, his good arm free.

"Hanging in there?" Shiro asks. He's got a teasing smile on, ugh, _weird._

"I feel _fantastic,_ " Lance declares, and makes a show of stretching like he's getting ready for a run. Can't show any weakness, nope. "I can do this all day. How are your hunters doing?"

Shiro's smile drops. "Tired, but we're still fighting. Pollyanna has been a great help."

Lance nods. "She does that. C'mon, Pidge, let's go help."

He turns to go. Shiro grabs his arm, and he almost— _almost_ —ices him; lucky for them both, it's his good arm, Shiro lets go quickly, and Lance remembers himself.

He's _not_ Champion anymore, he tells himself firmly. Get it together.

"Are you sure you should be getting in there? You look exhausted," Shiro's saying. Ugh, he noticed.

"Thanks, but I'll be fine," Lance says, probably a little sharper than necessary. Shiro pulls back with a nod, face inscrutable—he probably hurt his feelings but, whatever—and Lance turns to the fight, Pidge at as his side.

"Were he anyone else, I'd think you were showing off," she mutters, as they reach the rangers poised in case the demon breaks free of the rest.

"It's called bluffing," he responds. "Get up there."

She nods and takes off. He runs in to where Hunk is maintaining his wall, steadfast; before them, the hunters are moving in on the second demon with caution. The first burns beyond.

"How are you holding up?" he asks.

"Pretty good, actually," says Hunk. "I'm not really doing much."

"Fair enough. D'you think you can pin it down at all?"

Hunk grimaces. "I can pretty much only do walls, dude."

"I know, but consider: a bunch of very small walls, very close together, around its legs."

He frowns for a moment, then raises his eyebrows thoughtfully.

"Yeah, I might be able to do that," he says.

"Great! Give it a shot, then."

There's a yelp, and they both look up to see Chase go flying, rolling heavily across the pavement in human form. He doesn't get back up immediately.

"And _quickly_ ," Lance adds, and then he's off; he starts off running but ices the pavement in front of him for speed, dropping into a slide to stop at Chase's side.

"Chase!?" he asks. He's still breathing, thank god.

"Mmrg." And responsive, that's good too.

"POL!" Lance shouts, and in a flash—literally—she's crouched at his side.

"I've got him," she says, and Lance is off again, scrambling back towards the demon. There's a rumble, and the pavement sprouts upward around it, causing several hunters to yelp and recoil.

"Sorry!" Hunk calls.

The walls aren't that small, and there aren't very many—instead, three shoulder-high walls tilt inward, encircling the demon at its waist. It seems to work, though, by the way the demon is roaring and squirming.

"Nice!" Lance throws a thumbs up over his shoulder at Hunk—Hunk beams—and then he's running in to (hopefully) finish it off.

The hunters are keeping back for the moment—taking a much-needed breather, probably—which means there's nothing to distract the demon from Lance. He slides around behind it, trying to find its blind spot, but it flails blindly at him anyway.

"Need a distraction," he mutters to himself. The hunters seem to think he's got this well in hand, or else they're doing that thing civs do where they assume a single super can take on a class four singlehandedly—which, well, _some_ can, but not Lance—though he has Hunk, he's not _quite_ singlehanded right now—either way they're just standing there watching, useless.

And then Pidge comes screeching in from the sky, kicking at the demon before flapping up out of its reach again. God _bless_ Pidge.

Okay. He has to get close for this; he’s running low on energy and his ice can't penetrate a demon's skin on it’s own, but if the hunters have done their job well the hide should've been breached already, somewhere. He just has to find that somewhere.

He takes a running jump at the back wall.

His bad arm _screams_ but he catches the edge and pulls himself up, biting back the pain. He doesn't have much time; Pidge and the demon are engaged in a screaming match now but that'll only distract it for so long, so he straightens as best he can and drags his hands down the part of the demon's back he can actually reach. His fingers catch in pockmarks, on crossbow bolts.

He pushes in, squeezing ice into the gaps. Demons are drier than people but even they have bodily fluids—and when those fluids freeze, demons react no better than anything else.

The demon shrieks, jerking back—one arm comes around to try and claw at him, and he presses himself against its stinking back, out of reach. He presses the ice in further, upward; he can't exactly feel its organs but they gotta be in there somewhere.

The demon shudders beneath him, and then its skin grows hot.

This time when it jerks back, he's dislodged, and tumbles off the wall ass over heels—he break his fall with his bad arm and blacks out for half a second, coming to to find his hands scraped raw and his arm throbbing like it was burned yesterday and not years back. He scoots back as Hunk's walls crack.

"Hunk! Let it go," he calls, and the walls drop back into the ground. Pidge lifts away from the demon entirely; there's a flash of light and Polly is there next to him.

"We need to move," she says, even as her glowing hands cover his own. "That was spectacularly stupid."

"Hey, it worked," he says. He doesn't really have the energy to make more ice, which means if he wants to get anywhere fast he has to actually get up, ugh. And fast, the writhing demon is starting to glow.

He gets up onto his knees, and Polly takes his arm and pulls him upwards. A large hand grabs the other and he screams.

"Let go!" Polly says urgently, and the hand lets go. Hunk, he thinks for half a second, until the pain falls back to a level he can think around and he remembers Hunk knows.

"Sorry," says Shiro. Figures.

He gets to his feet somehow, and Shiro puts a hand on his back, and between the two of them he limps away from the burning demon; they set him down on the curb up the street a ways. He sinks onto the pavement gratefully, and then waves his good arm weakly.

"Everyone regroup!" he calls tiredly. Hunk and Pidge are incoming; Chase is, too, back on his feet though looking a little worse for wear. Polly and Shiro are already with him, and the hunters are gathering in, Nyma and Rolo pushing to the front.

"Can everyone hear me!? Whatever." There's a couple of chuckles at his words. "Good job. Didn't mean to test you this much right off the bat, but if you can handle this you can handle almost anything, am I right?" An affirmative groan. "And no serious injuries—right?"

"Right," says Polly.

"Cool. Thing is, we still gotta take care of those class ones."

That gets a real groan out of the crowd, and out of Pidge, too, who flops onto the curb next to him.

"Don't wanna," she mutters.

"Hang in, Birdy." He raises his voice again. "Good news is, it'll be a hell of a lot easier than this! Just don't get complacent and it'll be over with real fast. Easy peasy." He brushes off his hands. "That said, if you can't move any faster than a limp, you're coming back to the outpost with me."

"Skipping out on us?" Chase asks, even as he drops onto the curb too.

" _You're_ coming with me. You take a tumble, you're not ready to rumble. That's a very serious rule."

He says it quietly, so only Hunk and Shiro chuckle this time. Ah well.

"Not gonna argue with that," Chase responds, and lies back fully on the sidewalk. Lance is tempted to do the same.

"Uhh, what else. Be honest, 'kay? Some of you are gonna wanna go fight when you're injured, some of you are gonna wanna go home when you're not. Help your buddies if you can but don't be a liability. Pidge, Hunk, Polly, you guys still good?"

"I'm fine," says Hunk.

"Could be better, but I can handle some class ones," Pidge says grudgingly.

"I'll have to prioritize, but yes," says Polly.

"You guys." Lance points at Shiro, Rolo, and Nyma. "Do your thing."

"Sure," says Rolo, as the other two nod.

"Head out when you're ready, we'll hobble back when we can. Pidge is in charge without me." And he flops back onto the sidewalk too.

Pidge sighs heavily. "Aye-aye, Captain," she says, and groans back up to her feet. Lance closes his eyes. Two class fours. Not a bad day, even if he feels like he's been run over by a truck.

Champion's presence also notwithstanding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can reblog astraia's art [here](https://crystalpallette.tumblr.com/post/175113662551/screams-its-done-the-monster-has-been-defeated)!


	3. watching through my fingers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [good grief - bastille](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZWCB3hpJDXM)
> 
> i wasnt expecting to add more so soon lol. ~~but another of my artists finished a piece so imma get that up asap~~ NEVERMIND THERE ARE TWO (2) ARTS NEXT CHAPTER and the second one isnt done yet. watch this space...

Eleven of the hunters stayed back with Lance and Chase, and so the thirteen of them trail back to the outpost at a snail's pace. The rest aren't back by the time they arrive nonetheless; Lance shoos the hunters on upstairs to rest.

"Ugh," he says, and drops into the first chair he sees. "I wanna go home."

"Soon, captain." Chase forgoes finding a chair and just drops to the floor next to him.

"I don't mean headquarters, I mean _home_."

"...Oh."

Lance sighs. "Headquarter's'd be acceptable, though. Think we can get all the civs outta here before everyone gets back?"

Chase snorts. "Not unless you wanna leave 'em all to die out in the ruins."

"Guess we'll have to wait, then."

"Choir Delta's supposed to get here in the morning."

"Mmf. Forgot they were coming up. Down. Rochester wing."

"Up was right, I think they're in Philly." Chase yawns. "Pidge knows."

"Mm." Lance closes his eyes. The chair isn't that comfortable but _god_ is he tired.

The doors open, though, and the sounds of a crowd coming in keep him from falling asleep, which is probably a good thing. He opens his eyes and lifts his head; sure enough, Pidge is leading in the rest of the hunters. She points them towards the stairs, then comes and flops onto the floor in front of him, leaning on his knees and sighing deeply.

"We good?" he asks.

"All done," she responds. "Gonna nap here."

"Sure."

Hunk comes over, too, with a chair under his arm. Polly stands in front of them all with hands on hips.

"Honestly. There are more comfortable places to rest," she says.

"I'd have to get up," says Lance.

"Don't," Pidge groans.

"Aren't you used to us by now? Your rotation's almost up," says Chase.

"My point stands."

"Oh! Speaking of rotations, sorta," says Lance, shifting and making Pidge grumble. "Where's CD coming from?"

"Rochester, ostensibly," Polly says, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, but Rochester's gone."

"Philadelphia," says Pidge, without moving at all. "It _was_ the Rochester wing, but they haven't even been in New York since the end of the Crisis."

"Told you Pidge would know," says Chase.

"The Association's sending them here to help because their team composition's pretty much the same as ours," Pidge mumbles. "Flier, rock man, healer... water instead of ice, but..."

"Hydrospear is _nothing_ like me," Lance protests. "She does, like, water swords."

"You make swords sometimes," Polly says.

"Still. We have two shifters. They have one, and that luck guy." Lance leans back in his chair again. "Can't be _that_ lucky if he's in the Rochester wing."

"Duke Fortune was transferred a week ago from Knights Chi, in exchange for Phoenix," Pidge says. "That's why they're in Philly."

"Phoenix would've been more useful." Lance closes his eyes again. "What if his luck means all the demons attack everyone _but_ them?"

"It depends on what he defines as lucky. He can control it."

"Still."

"Why don't we _wait and see,_ Ice. Honestly."

Her tone is sharp, for all that she's barely audible, so he lets it go, for now. Besides, thinking about it, having any fire-based super around might remind him of Torch, and he'd definitely rather avoid that.

Chase elbows his knee. "Champion incoming."

 _Great._ He looks up; Shiro's stepping out of the stairwell, looking towards them.

"Head 'im off at the pass, chief," Pidge mumbles.

"Gotta get off my legs for that, Birdy."

She sighs and scoots over a bit to tip sideways against Hunk's shin instead. Lance reluctantly stands with a mumbled "fivesies" and goes to meet Shiro.

"I'm sure you've heard already," says Shiro, "but the class ones have been taken care of."

"I did, yep. Thanks for that."

"Of course. Is there anything else you need from us?"

"Nah. Just rest." Lance waves a hand vaguely in the direction of the stairs. "Make sure your hunters are okay. If you need to go back to whatever you've got for headquarters and get something, now's the time." The more time Shiro is out of here, the better. "Polly's here if anyone's still hurt. We're not gonna send you out again till tomorrow at the earliest, unless there's an emergency."

"If you're sure," Shiro says. He's got his hands in his pockets, casual, smiling—a little scuffed up, but reasonably relaxed. _Easygoing,_ and so at odds with everything Lance knew of him before today. "Thanks, by the way."

"...For what?"

Shiro shrugs easily. "Letting us help? It's an honor. I mean it."

"You're not likely to get a lot of recognition out of this, y'know." Not least because he's the _last_ guy anyone wants to call attention to.

"Oh, no, it's not that. It just feels good to be helping out."

Lance has to bite back a snort at that, god, the _irony._

"And, well." Shiro rubs the back of his head. "I guess you could say I'm a big fan? Haha..."

"Oh!" Oh god, that's even worse. "Well, I'm flattered. But now you know, we're..." He flaps a hand back towards his team. "Just people, y'know?"

Shiro smiles. "I still think you're incredible," he says, voice deepening.

Oh.

"I look forward to working with you more."

Oh _god._

And then Shiro turns and heads back towards the stairs without waiting for Lance to respond, which is fine, because it's gonna take him a few minutes to form words again anyway. Fuck.

Champion _definitely_ just flirted with him. This is _horrifying._

He turns slowly back towards his team, and starts walking toward them, internally screaming all the while. It must show on his face because they all straighten up, even Pidge.

"What did he say?" she demands.

Lance holds up a finger and closes his eyes, composing himself. He opens them again slowly.

"Apparently," he says, and his voice is still pitched way higher than usual, "he's a big fan."

"Oh _no_ ," says Polly, which is the appropriate reaction. Pidge and Chase start cackling, and Hunk fails to bite back his grin.

"That's so ironic," says Chase through his grin.

"The man's an enigma," Pidge adds.

"We shouldn't speak about him so publically," Polly says, pointedly glancing towards the stairs.

"Yeah, yeah, everyone up, we have a lounge for lounging." Lance offers Chase a hand up; Pidge pulls herself up with Lance's chair, and stretches deeply. "Speaking of... _Hunk_."

"I already chewed him out," Pidge says, at the same time as Hunk protests, "Pidge already yelled at me!"

"Alright, alright, just making sure." He waits until they're all out of the foyer and into the hallway before continuing. "By the way, I'm gonna need someone to pretend to date me for the near future."

Pidge snorts. "Why? Someone actually expressed interest?"

"...You could say that."

There's a pause. Then a deep intake of breath from Hunk.

"Oh my god he was flirting with you," he says all at once. Chase snickers.

"I think we need Duke Fortune here just to offset all of—" Pidge gestures at him "—you. God."

"Why not simply flirt with a woman in front of him? Nyma, perhaps?" Polly elbows him slyly. "So long as you've been acting uncomfortable with his advances—which, I assume, you are—he'll assume you're straight and leave you alone."

"Yeah, see, I would," Lance says slowly, grimacing as they enter the lounge. He flops onto the nearest sofa while Hunk makes a beeline for the water cooler. "But I... may have accidentally come out to him? Kinda?"

Hunk drops his water. Pidge chokes, then starts howling, along with Chase. Polly shakes her head.

"Oh god, how?" Hunk splutters.

"How," Lance says stiffly, "is not important."

"Oh _god_ ," says Pidge, with a trailing giggle. "Not gonna lie, though, if he weren't who he is I could see him being your type."

Lance doesn't even need to pause to consider. "Oh yeah, no, if he weren't who he is I'd be _all_ over that. But he's _him_ and that's kind of a total dealbreaker."

"That'd really be something, though," says Chase with a grin. "Can you imagine? Champion, and the leader of the team that took him down?"

"Oh that'd go _real_ well. 'Hey Shiro, I'm the guy that iced your face so hard your hair changed color, wanna date?'"

"It's not like he remembers."

" _I_ remember." Lance stretches out to his full length down the sofa, wiggling in to get comfortable. "That'd be, I dunno. Unethical or something. We know shit about him that he doesn't know himself."

"If _that's_ what makes it unethical, his dating pool is spectacularly small," Pidge points out.

"Surprisingly, I'm not too bothered about that," he says drily, and closes his eyes, done with the conversation.

"It's not like the whole _world_ knows who he is," Hunk says anyway.

"You wanna ship him off to some third-world country for the sake of his love life, be my guest," says Pidge.

"If he has expressed interest in men then I doubt that would do him much good," Polly says.

"The gays are everywhere, Pol."

"And some governments still kill them for it."

"Who's gonna go up against Champion, though?"

"The whole point of sending him somewhere was that no one would know who he is," Hunk interjects.

"This is stupid," says Chase. Lance hums agreement.

"Just turn him down if he asks, Ice," Polly says. "It's as simple as that."

"Still awkward as fuck."

"...Granted."

He sighs deeply and wriggles further into the sofa. He'll deal with it if it comes; he's got enough to worry about until then.

* * *

"We're gonna have to warn them about Shiro," Pidge muses, as Choir Delta traipses into the building. They're all still wearing masks, increasingly rare now that the Hero Crisis is over—but as a traveling team, it's probably to be expected. Not that he doesn't recognize most of them anyway.

"Icicle!" calls the woman in front, and Lance steps forward to grip her hand.

"Windrunner! How's it hangin'?"

"Same as ever." She gives his hand a firm shake. "Heard you've got a bit of a demon problem."

"Not yet, but Clairvoyant says we're gonna."

She smirks. "Three spawn points not a problem?"

"Well, it's under control." He gestures over his shoulder. "That's Bunker, and Pollyanna. You've met Pigeon and Jagdhund."

"I have. Besides Obsidian and Hydrospear, we've got—" she turns "Innervate, and Duke Fortune just joined us."

"Rose says hello!" Duke Fortune adds.

"Oh shit! How is she?"

"Bored, apparently. They don't have as much activity down there as you do."

"Ah, well." Lance rocks back on his heels. "Speaking of activity, there's, uh, something you gotta know."

"Someone," Pidge interjects.

"Incoming," warns Polly, and Lance glances back.

"Icicle!" Shiro calls, and Lance sighs as he turns back. Windrunner's jaw has dropped.

"Speak of the devil," he says, sagging. "I'll go intercept him, Pidge'll explain." And he jogs off to meet Shiro before he gets into hearing range.

"Good morning!" Shiro says as Lance approaches.

"Morning. Something up?"

"Not especially. I heard that there was another superhero team coming in this morning; I thought I should come introduce myself."

Lance bites back a snort and makes a show of peering around Shiro, as if there might be someone hiding behind him. "Where's Nyma, then? And Rolo?"

"Oh, still upstairs. I can go get them?"

"Do that." Lance nods, and Shiro nods in turn and heads back towards the stairwell. Lance takes a deep breath and returns to the other supers.

"Well!" he says. "He came down to meet you. I sent him up to get his seconds but, brace yourselves."

"I'll say," says Windrunner. "I knew he was in the area but I didn't think we'd even run into the guy, let alone _work_ with him. How've you managed?"

"With difficulty."

The introduction is exactly as awkward as expected. Shiro smiles throughout the whole thing—whether genuinely oblivious, or simply too polite to bring it up, Lance doesn't know.

Either way, it looks to be a tense time ahead.


	4. the daylight feels like it's a long way off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [walk on - u2](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gwKEdFoUB0o)

"Tense," it soon turns out, is an understatement.

It's a scant couple of weeks with Choir Delta's help before the spawn point Clairvoyant predicted opens, closer to the still-inhabited parts of the city than the rest. With a full ten supers and the band of demon hunters, they hold out—for the time being.

"I don't know how much longer we can keep this up, Pops," Pidge says as they return to a new temporary headquarters with what feels like a thousand new citizens to evacuate. She hasn't even bothered to shift out of her wings in days—they're called out too often at any time of day or night, there's just no point. They can only struggle to stem the tide.

"We gotta," Lance says tiredly. He slumps onto the reception desk and casts an eye across the lobby at his brave defenders straggling in. "We gotta get everyone out."

"Ice," Pidge says again, quieter. "How much of the city are we gonna have to evacuate? We can't _do_ this forever."

Lance drags a hand down his face and struggles to come up with an answer that isn't "all of it," and falls short. He sighs instead, and lets his head fall onto the desk. It's incredibly uncomfortable but he could probably fall asleep like this.

A hand rubs into his good shoulder—from in front of him, not really the best angle, but it feels good anyway.

"Hanging in there?" Shiro asks.

"Yeah," Lance groans. If this disaster has any perks, it's that he can interact with the guy without being weird about it, at least. He's not really sure that's a perk, though. "You?"

"We lost David."

Lance looks up sharply, pulling a muscle in his neck. He winces and rubs at it as he straightens.

"Shit, really? Are you sure?"

Shiro's face clouds over, which is answer enough, but he nods, too.

"I'm sorry, man." Lance reaches across the desk to pat him on the shoulder, and means it; he doubts there's a hunter on the team that Shiro hasn't befriended. The guy is a hell of a leader and they're all goddamn lucky that as Champion he worked alone.

"Thanks," says Shiro. "We're going to hold a wake tonight." It won't be the first, and Lance doubts it'll be the last, either.

"I'll be there," Lance promises, because being seen caring for civilians is the best (and only) thing he can do for morale right now.

Superheroes aren't people, he reminds himself grimly, as Shiro nods and exchanges some sort of secret-handshake-thing with Hunk before he walks away to rejoin Nyma and Rolo. They're warmachines. They're something inhuman; they have to be.

It's the only way to survive.

"Take a nap, man," Pidge says quietly, because she understands what it's like to pretend you're not human. "I'll cover for you."

"You're the best," he says, which isn't a strong enough sentiment, but her face softens and she pats his good shoulder before shoving him toward the lounge, so maybe she understands that too.

He collapses on the couch the moment he gets into the room, and is out in seconds.

* * *

When Lance wakes up, he finds someone has dimmed the lights for him—god _bless_ his team—and there's a letter on his chest. He opens it sloppily, still not quite awake, which is probably why when he skims it he doesn't really register any of it. Something about Polly and someone else named Allura. He falls back asleep.

The second time he wakes, though, he _actually_ wakes, enough to remember that Polly's rotation is nearly up and that the name "Allura" sounds distantly familiar. Which isn't really surprising because there are only so many healers out there and they're constantly being rotated out between superhero teams and civilian hospitals, so they tend to cover a lot of ground.

It sticks in the back of his head, though, after he rereads the letter and learns what his subconscious had already figured out—that this Allura will be replacing Polly as soon as she arrives. Hopefully she's good at her job, anyway. Maybe she'll even be better than Polly, though frankly that would be difficult—Polly's one of the best, it's why she was sent here at all, given that the city is a hotspot.

He sets the thought aside—it is what it is, and Polly deserves a break. They'll make do as they've always done.

He wanders out to the lobby and finds Shiro, Windrunner, and some others setting up for the wake; there's a photo of David and something twists in his gut when he recognizes his face. He recognizes all the hunters by now but losing one always feels more personal than he anticipates; he can rationalize that David knew what he signed up for all he wants, it won't stop him from feeling like he's failed.

Wordlessly, he joins in the preparations. The hunters nod to him and carry on.

* * *

Lance is shaken awake in the morning instead of being startled up by an alarm, which is as novel as it is annoying. He groans and cracks open an eye to see Polly leaning over him in the dark.

"Ice, wake up," she's saying.

He groans. "Wh' time's it?" he slurs.

"Almost five," she responds, which is horrible. "My replacement is here."

Oh, that. He reluctantly drags himself upward and tries to rub the sleep out of his face.

"You're going?" he asks.

"Yes," she says softly. "I already said my goodbyes to the rest."

He sighs and rolls out of bed; at least he doesn't have to worry about changing into his uniform for this, he's been wearing it for several days straight now.

"Let's go meet her, then," he says, hand on Polly's back, and they head out of the room.

The new healer is waiting in the lobby with the night crew, maskless. She has rich brown skin and flowing silver hair, and his first thought is that she's beautiful.

His second is that she looks familiar.

When they get closer, and he can better see her face in the dim light, he almost stops in his tracks with dread. He remembers her distinctly now—the hands on his burnt arm, the gentle voice marvelling that he'd had a rough day, hadn't he? The form she handed him that asked for a hero name and the word he'd almost written before he chose to leave it behind. Allura is not merely familiar, she's the one who was there at his lowest point, patching him up after his greatest mistake.

Which means if there's any super out there who knows his secret, it's her.

"Allura," Polly greets, reaching to clasp her hand. "This is Icicle, the team leader."

"Icicle," Allura repeats—her voice is just as he remembers. "It's good to meet you, and I'm sorry to wake you at this hour."

"Better you than a demon." Lance shrugs and grins as he shakes her hand.

He'd rather it be a demon.

Polly turns to him, though, and puts a hand on his shoulder. "There's a car waiting for me," she says. "Icicle, thank you for everything."

"No," Lance says, "thank _you_." He pulls her into a tight hug that, for all her aloof demeanor, she returns with the same vigor. _Don't go,_ he wants to add, but he doesn't. He can't.

"Goodbye," she says, and she leaves him with Allura.

"I'm glad to see you've recovered," she says quietly, freezing the blood in his veins as surely as his powers could. She remembers, then, at least.

"What, have we met before?" he asks lightly. Another perk of having Champion around is he's gotten that much better at deflection. "I think I'd remember someone as beautiful as you." He sweeps into a courtly bow, just for the hell of it. Play it up, distract her. "I do have one of those faces, though, people 'recognize' me all the time. Come on, I'll show you your quarters." With a wink—and her frown in return, wow, tough audience, but he's going to deny it all till his dying breath—he leads her into the rooms they've repurposed. Maybe someday they'll actually be able to go back to headquarters, but for now? Folding cots and inflatable mattresses in abandoned office buildings will have to do.

"Home, sweet home," he says, gesturing into the cubicle that Polly has just vacated. "Don't make that face, you're getting the best inflatable mattress we have."

"The best?" she asks, eyeing it. Polly made it before she left and it looks really inviting to Lance, frankly. Hell, any horizontal surface does at this point.

"Welcome to the front lines, Princess," he says, hands on his hips. "Get some rest while you can, because we could get scrambled any second. You've got nine supers and a good thirty hunters in your care now, and Innervate can't pick up your slack, there's gonna be more than enough for the two of you to handle as is."

She sighs. "I don't mean to be unappreciative. I understand that things are difficult here."

"If you think you understand now, wait a few hours." And right on cue, the alarm sounds. "Or right now! Hope you're ready for some action, Princess, because it's here either way. Change into something you can fight in and meet in the lobby in five." He walks away.

"Stop calling me that!" she shouts after him.

He's the first back to the lobby, but that's no surprise considering he was up already. Nor is it a surprise that Shiro is there second, or Windrunner a close third. Allura shows up next, looking a little disheveled and overwhelmed—he feels a little bit vindictively pleased at that, but shoves it away. Whatever she may know is no reason to take out his frustrations on her, and if their new healer isn't at her best they'll all suffer. So as Hunk, Chase, Pidge, and the rest of CD and the hunters trail in, he takes a moment to stand next to her and give her shoulder a reassuring pat.

"You can do this," he tells her. "Listen, prioritize, and only do as much as you have to, and you'll do fine. And don't be weird about Shiro." Another pat and he leaves her to go stand with Windrunner and Shiro instead. Pidge joins them, too.

"Polly just left," he tells them. "Allura's our replacement."

"She looks nervous," Shiro notes. Allura's looking at him, wide-eyed, but when he meets her eyes she quickly looks away. He's gonna have to teach her a thing or two about subtlety.

"I don't think she was quite prepared for the hellscape we call home," he says. "She'll adjust. Are you ready?"

"As ever." He nods.

"Windrunner?"

"Always," she says.

"Pidge?"

"I wanna go back to bed," she grumbles.

"Yeah, me too. But you know what they say about early birds."

"I _will_ murder you in your sleep."

"Noted. What've we got?"

"Class twos." Pidge yawns. "Five of them, in a pack. And a pair of threes elsewhere."

"Tolerable. Windrunner, take the threes and half the hunters?"

"Sure."

"Great." Lance waves his arm in the air to get everyone's attention as the alarm finally quiets. "Y'all! Polly's gone, we've got Allura now. Wave, Allura."

Allura waves tentatively. They'll have to work on that, too.

"Okay! We've got a bunch of class twos, and a couple of class threes. Pretty routine, but be careful, I'm sure most of us aren't at our peak right now." There's a few sleepy grumbles of amusement. "We're gonna split up into two groups and just overwhelm them with numbers—so be careful about friendly fire. Anything to add, Windrunner?"

"Buddy system," she says. "Hunters, find a super and stick to them, or else we can't keep track of everyone. We don't want to leave anyone behind."

"Shiro?"

"Groups of three for that," Shiro adds. "Watch out for each other, and I'll second the friendly fire warning. Stay alert."

"Yay, teamwork," Lance says tiredly. "Okay, let's go."

They traipse out of the building into the pre-dawn air. It's cold and quiet and dark, only the faintest glow on the horizon, and the scouts—minor supers, for the most part, employed by the Association as lookouts and helpers for lack of anywhere more useful to put them—point with their flashlights to show them the way. Allura comes up to join the leadership as they walk.

"Are you usually so... disorganized?" she asks.

"Have you never been on a team before?" Windrunner asks her. "This is about the best you'll ever see."

"Wow, thanks, Windy," Lance says, actually a little flattered.

"I've been stationed at the main headquarters since the beginning of the Hero Crisis," Allura says, which is either a great sign or a terrible one. "I haven't been on a team, as such, since Rochester existed."

"I don't remember you from there," Windrunner says.

Allura shakes her head. "Before Choir Delta. I was one of the Gifted."

Goddamn, Lance hasn't heard that term since the Association was founded. Long before they knew about the Shimmering Sky Effect—long before they had any idea how many people had been affected.

"Damn," says Windrunner.

"Even I remember that," Shiro says thoughtfully. "Then you worked with Cosmo and Incandia."

Lance sucks in a breath. Windrunner looks away, teeth gritted.

"Y-yes?" Allura stutters, because they all know Shiro—Champion—took their powers. They know Incandia is dead because of it.

"I guess I didn't recognize you without the mask." Shiro smiles easily, as unbothered as ever. "I followed you guys' exploits before the Crisis—probably into it, too, though you'd disbanded by then. Amnesia," he adds, tapping his temple as explanation. Like they don't fucking _know._ "I never found out what happened to them."

"Not that I don't _love_ dwelling on the past," Lance interrupts drily, "but we've got demons to kill. Pidge?"

"Windy and company should split off in a minute," she says, pointing down the road ahead. "We're gonna be heading down into the subway."

" _Ugh_." Lance throws his head back. "Is it a nest? Tell me we're not taking on a nest."

"The scouts didn't report one."

"Thank _god_."

Windrunner heaves a sigh. "I'll gather my crew," she says, and falls back through the crowd. Chase and Hunk come up to join them moments later, and Shiro falls back too, exchanging a high five with Hunk on the way.

"I guess we never did introductions," Lance says. "Allura, that's Bunker and Jagdhund, and you met Pigeon already. Windy can introduce you to Choir Delta later, since I guess they're gonna be with us for a while."

"Nice to meet you," Allura tells them, though she doesn't really sound it.

"What type's your power, anyway?" Pidge asks.

"Active and touch-range," says Allura. "Like Pollyanna, I believe, only less... bright."

"Yeah, but she could sorta teleport, too." Lance raises an eyebrow at her. "You got any fancy tricks, too, or is it just the healing?"

"Nothing relating to my power," Allura says, and unclips a short rod from her hip. "Just this." At the press of a button the rod shoots out into a full staff, which she twirls above their heads and then strikes into the ground in front of her without a hitch in her stride. Just as smoothly she returns the staff to its smaller size and clips it to her belt again.

"Ooh," says Hunk.

"That's something," says Lance. If she can do more than show off with the thing then it means they won't have to worry about protecting her as much, which is a definite bonus. "Just don't get carried away fighting when you're here to heal."

"I won't," she responds firmly.

"We're splitting!" Windrunner hollers from somewhere behind them, and Lance turns and walks backwards.

"Stay safe!" he shouts back, and half the group peels away.

They head down into the subway shortly, a dozen flashlights lighting the way. It doesn't make much difference to the darkness, though, here in the abandoned bowels of the city.

"Do we have any idea where the lights are?" Lance asks Pidge, hushed.

"Locked away somewhere," Pidge says.

"This was a shitty time to lose Polly."

"Yup."

"I can have some of my hunters stand aside," Shiro offers. "They can hold the lights for the rest of us. If we're only fighting class twos, it should be fine."

"I don't really wanna leave anyone out of this, even for class twos," Lance says. "But most of us can't fight while holding a flashlight, and it'd be too dangerous, anyway. So yeah, do that."

"I can hold a flashlight, too," Hunk offers. "I don't need my hands."

"Technically, I don't either," Pidge adds. "Not that I'd be able to keep it steady, or that I'll be doing much flying down here anyway."

"Should we not have stayed above ground, then?" Allura asks.

"Nah, Windy's powers would be worse down here," Lance says. "We'll make do. Hunk, Pidge, take a flashlight and stand aside with the hunters; Hunk, support from afar, and defend if necessary. Pidge, if you gotta jump in, just hand your flashlight to someone else. Allura, you take a flashlight, too—same deal as Pidge. And spread out, we're gonna have to light up as much of the space as possible."

"Is this a _subway_ subway, or a trolley?" Chase asks, peering around the station as they descend. "How much space do we have?"

"Too much. It's both," says Shiro. "This is Park Street, the red and green lines both came through here."

"...Meaning?"

"There's two levels and a lot of train tracks," says Shiro. "It's a pretty big station, and the tracks for the red line are deep. Not sure if the third rail is down or up, though. I guess the power's out either way."

"So what I'm getting from this is, expect an ambush," says Lance.

"It's likely, I think."

"Lots of stairs?"

"Yeah."

"Fantastic." Lance stretches with a grimace. "Alright, stay alert, everyone."

They pause in the station entrance to let everyone catch up, and then push through the dead turnstiles to the rest of the station. There's a faint sound of hissing and scratching and growling that echoes dimly around the cavernous, pitch-black space, but no visual sign of the demons, yet.

"Sounds like they're further down," Shiro says, directing his flashlight down the platform, to another set of stairs that descend further into the murk.

"Let's check out this floor first, just in case," says Lance.

They fan out, shining lights into dark corners and down the tracks. They find little signs—claw marks in the concrete, droppings—but no demons, not yet. As Lance moves around the station it becomes pretty obvious that the sounds of the demons are coming up from below, but it's still with some reluctance that he calls for everyone to gather at the stairs. The further down they go, the further they are from escape if something goes wrong.

"Everyone ready? Everyone have their buddy? Everyone still awake?" he asks. "Anyone need to use the bathroom before we go?"

He gets a few snickers and snorts, which at least means they're paying attention. Allura looks baffled but eh, she'll get used to him soon enough.

"All set," Pidge confirms, and Shiro nods.

"Then let's do this," Lance says, and leads the way cautiously down the stairs.

He's only about halfway down when there's a snarl ahead, and then a demon—dog-sized and bearing plenty of sharp teeth and claws, but not especially smart, definitely a class two—leaps into the light, just below him. A heavy hand falls on his shoulder, pushing him down.

"Fire!" Shiro shouts above him—he's got Pidge's shoulder, too, pushing the three of them down out of the way of the hunters. A few bolts whizz over their heads as Hunk, Chase, Allura, and a handful of hunters fall back out of the way too.

The bolts take down the demon easily enough; they don't kill it but it screams and writhes on the ground, out of commission. The rest of the class twos swarm in moments later, though, at the foot of the stairs.

"Let's go!" Lance shouts. Pidge takes off with a leap and a loud beating of wings as he ducks through the railing to the other side of the stairwell and ices it down, sending him sliding toward the bottom at full speed. Chase hands his flashlight to Hunk—who stays right where he is next to Allura—and shifts mid leap, landing among them. The rest of the hunters follow them down, and they overwhelm the demons in under a minute.

"Simple enough," says Allura, retracting her staff. Lance considers getting on her case for that but it's pretty clear no one got hurt, so whatever.

And then a deep, rumbling growl echoes through the tunnels.

"Everyone up, now!" Lance shouts, gesturing everyone up the stairs. Pidge swoops up ahead; Allura and Shiro stay back with their flashlights until Lance is on the stairs too, and they run up together.

"Keep going!" Pidge shouts ahead. "We need to draw it out!"

Bless Pidge for always knowing what he's thinking. They sprint toward the turnstiles; Allura pushes through while Lance and Shiro simply hop over. They bring up the rear as heavy footsteps follow on the stairs; Allura slows to glance over her shoulder but Lance pulls her on.

"Don't look back," he gasps, "keep going!"

They're barely to the top of the stairs and the exit of the station when there's a loud clang and a crunch below—the turnstiles. Lance gives Shiro and Allura both a little push ahead.

"Go!" he shouts again, and half-kneels, half-trips, slamming his palms into the ground. Ice crackles out from beneath them, spreading rapidly around him and across the stairs.

"Ice!" someone shouts.

 _No, shit,_ says a snarky corner of his mind. He digs his toes into the ice, the grip on his shoes counteracting its slipperiness, and darts forward, dropping into a roll at the top of the stairs and scrambling to his feet. The _whoosh_ of an arm narrowly misses the back of his head.

"Jump!" Pidge shouts behind him. He leaps upward, arms out (ow), and she catches him in a practiced move and carries him in a glide further out across the road—this always kills his shoulder but it's faster than he could've run. The hunters are already almost in position, ranged weapons at the ready.

"Letting go," Pidge warns, and Lance drops neatly into a roll, popping back up to his feet right in front of Shiro. Shiro looks briefly upwards, as if appealing to some higher power, and shakes his head, but doesn't say anything, only turns to his hunters.

"Ready!" he shouts.

"Class five, captain," Pidge murmurs as she drops down beside him. Fuck.

Lance turns slowly, dreading what he'll find. The demon is getting back to its feet—at least the ice worked—and when it looks up, there's a glimmer in its eyes. They focus on him, and narrow—it knows he made the ice. It's the biggest demon he's ever seen, and it's _smart._

Double fuck.

"Call for backup," he says to whoever's nearest. "Shiro, fire."

"Fire!" Shiro shouts. A volley of projectiles sail towards it, and Lance glances around. They need a plan, and quick.

"Hunk," he says, "keep it away from us as long as possible. Pidge, aim for the eyes. Shiro, keep up the ranged attacks, wear it down—don't send the rest in yet. Chase, distract but don't engage for now—if we can't take it down at range, go for the legs, but if you see anyone get hurt, your first priority is to get them out of there. Allura, keep an eye on Chase especially, but don't forget to watch the field. If anyone needs healing, it's on you alone until Innervate gets here."

"Got it," says Shiro, as the rest nod. He turns to repeat Lance's instructions in a shout for the rest of the hunters to hear.

Which just leaves Lance.

The demon's eyes are still fixed on him, even as it heaves against Hunk's wall—they won't be for long with Pidge circling above, but for now it's unnerving. He'd rather keep his distance, but his power works only at touch range—he can't fight from back here.

He used to, a nasty little corner of his brain reminds him. He can make icicles—and his throwing arm isn't the one that's damaged.

But there's a reason he hasn't since, and while he might consider it otherwise—it's been a couple years, now, and with the Hero Crisis in between chances are everyone's forgotten—there's a problem. Allura is standing right next to him, and if he threw her off his trail before—unlikely—the icicles would absolutely give him away.

He'll just have to get in there after all. He jogs in place for a second, warming up, stretching out after the sprint out of the subway and ignoring the pain in his shoulder—this is going to take speed and agility, and probably a lot of luck.

Wow, he actually kind of wishes Duke Fortune were here.

He kicks out, spreading ice out in a path before him straight towards the wall, and then he gets low and starts skating. It doesn't take long to build up speed even though he's hunched over in an effort to avoid any stray bolts—the hunters are good about the friendly fire thing, but he’s not taking any chances. Chase keeps pace just behind him, ready to drag him out if it goes wrong.

The demon sees him coming. It grips the wall so hard it cracks as it tries to climb over; Lance veers hard to left towards the end of the wall, building himself a trail along it, and the demon roars and tries to follow. Then Pidge lands on its face.

The roar turns into a deafening screech—Chase staggers back into human form, hands clamped over his ears, and Pidge doesn't do much better, tumbling away and barely catching herself before crashing to the ground. Lance grits through it along with most of the hunters; he slides into place at the end of the wall.

He takes a deep breath. The demon's screech is dying down; one of its eyes is bloody, but the other is open and angry. It glares at him, and the demon approaches.

Lance starts skating. He drags his fingertips along the wall, coating it in ice as he goes—the ice shoots ahead of him, filling in the cracks. He keeps his eyes on the demon's claws, though. Icing the wall is just a distraction.

He balls his good fist, coating it in hard ice and squeezing, compressing the might of his power into a small space. There's a lot of reasons he doesn't like doing this—not least because of the sheer energy it takes from him—but if he's lucky, it might be worth it. It worked on Shiro, once, after all.

He slides into the demon's range, and it swings. He drops down, lifting his hand as he does—slipping under its strike, just brushing it with the tips of his fingers. The power he contained there explodes out onto the demon's hand, freezing it instantly.

And then he slides right off the last of his ice and tumbles onto the pavement. In moments a snorting something has him by the collar of his jacket, dragging him away from the wall.

"I'm okay, Chase," he says, and Chase drops him—and barks and hits his shoulder with his paw, yes, Lance _knows_ it was a dangerous idea but it _worked_.

Pidge is diving in for another attack; Chase is lingering by to watch, barking up a storm. Hunk's wall is holding. One of the demon's hands is frostbitten, half-useless. None of the hunters have been hurt yet, and they seem to be running out of projectiles but there's a fair assortment of bolts still shooting toward the demon, and a great deal of them hit. The sun is finally above the horizon, enough to light their battlefield.

They might actually be able to defeat this thing.

Pidge strikes again as Lance gets to his feet, and this time the thing swats at her while it screeches—and hits. It _learned,_ Lance realizes with sinking horror, as Pidge hits the wall and falls off it, and Chase runs in to catch her, to carry her back as Allura runs forward to meet them...

The demon swings at the wall. It cracks. It swings again, and the cracks grow. Ice falls free in sheets to shatter on the pavement.

"Hunk?" Lance calls. He looks back—sees Shiro where Allura had just been, supporting Hunk who looks to be moments from collapsing. Shit.

Lance faces the demon just in time to see it break through the wall. It staggers through and drops to all fours despite its damaged hand, lowering its head as if to sniff the ground—it's blind now, but shit, he didn't consider it could _smell._ Then it bounds forward, right past the horrified tableau of Chase and Pidge and Allura—right towards him.

_Fuck._

Lance turns and sprints back towards the hunters, desperate. It's futile, the thing is too fast, the ground shudders behind him, stronger and stronger—Choir Delta hasn't reached them yet and it's already too late, they'll come only to find they've all _died—_

A claw slashes across Lance's back and tosses him sideways, and he tumbles with a scream. There's shouting nearby but he can't make out the words—he doesn't have the energy to defend himself but maybe he can grab the demon when it strikes, freeze something vital.

He rolls over, and the demon lunges in mouth-first.

Lance watches the scene in slow motion, as though it were happening to someone else. The demon's teeth bared, getting closer—the warbled shout, the footsteps, the body that lurches in front of him. The glint of wires and symbols on the arm that's thrust in front of him.

The sickening _crunch_ when the demon's jaws snap shut on Shiro's prosthetic—on his _restraint_ —and tear it in two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cronch
> 
> you can reblog liviemomo's art [here](http://liviemomo.tumblr.com/post/175126693830/one-of-five-arts-im-doing-for-maternalcube-s) and [here](http://liviemomo.tumblr.com/post/175258457705/picture-number-two-for-maternalcube-s-fic)!


	5. since we can't take the cost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [what is to be done? - stars](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BQSL9XgSzc4)

A shiver runs through Shiro's body as he falls to his knees, clutching his bicep above the sparking remains of his arm. A shiver runs through the demon, too; it falls back, gurgling, then choking as though the arm is stuck in his throat. For a wild second, Lance half-thinks Shiro's still controlling it somehow. But he can't be, not with his arm like that.

His arm—that contained his restraint, the thing that blocked all his powers, that kept him from remembering what he'd done with them. The arm that's now stuck in a dying demon's throat mere feet away.

Lance sits up slowly, cautiously. Shiro is shaking, bent so the white tuft of his hair brushes the pavement. He doesn't look injured—shocked, maybe. Maybe literally, but Lance has seen people getting electrocuted, and it doesn't look like that. That doesn't make Lance any more keen to approach, though.

Shiro might have his powers back, and that makes him—whatever else he might be—dangerous.

Lance gets to his feet slowly, edges around him. He's injured, in no state to be fighting Champion—no one is right now. Pidge is still prone, Chase and Allura at her side; movement out of the corner of Lance's eye tells him Choir Delta has finally arrived, but when he glances over he finds them tattered, tired. Frozen on the spot once they take in the scene.

There's a nagging feeling in the corner of Lance's mind, though. A feeling that points out all Shiro has done for them, how deeply he cared for his hunters. How kind he was.

And assumptions Lance has made, in the past, changed everything—ruined everything forever. That's not something he's keen on repeating.

It's for this reason, then, that he whispers into the dead silence, "Shiro?"

Shiro's head snaps up immediately. His eyes search only a moment before they lock onto Lance's. His face is tear-streaked, Lance notes. Stricken and pale. _Horrified._

"Put it back," Shiro whispers. "Please."

Something cracks in Lance's chest. He takes a few shaky steps forward—not enough to be in reach, but almost. It's a question he needs answered, a question he's afraid to ask.

"I, uh." Lance swallows and tries again. "Your arm is... I don't think we can put it back."

Shiro chokes, shakes his head. "That's not... not the arm. The restraint."

Shit, he remembers.

"I don't want to remember."

He hunches over again, wrapped around himself and shuddering. He makes a noise that might be a sob.

"I _don't want to remember_."

Oh.

Fuck.

Okay. Now Lance has to do something about this. There is the option he should choose, that he's supposed to choose: subdue at any cost. It's what the Association would want, certainly. Champion is not a person to be allowed to _exist,_ let alone offered mercy.

But they've been in this position before, Lance standing in the street with Champion kneeling before him, and he remembers it vividly. He's not sure he wants to, either. Because the Shiro he's come to know isn't Champion. The Shiro he knows now is not a villain—he's a good man. Honest, hardworking, helpful to the point of self-sacrificing. The Shiro he knows just jumped in front of a class five demon to save his life.

The Shiro he knows deserves that offer of mercy.

So with his heart in his throat and with shaking hands, Lance kneels too, right in front of him. Reaches out to brush against Shiro's shoulder.

"We'll see what we can do," he says softly, and offers him a hand.

There are shouts in the distance, and though Lance ignores them it's probably that more than anything that makes Shiro look up. He freezes halfway to sitting up at the sight of Lance's hand, bare and offered freely, well within reach.

His power works skin to skin. Lance is giving him the opportunity to steal his own power and trusting him not to, and they both know it.

The moment stretches on, a bubble of morning air that nothing else penetrates. Shiro's eyes flick up to Lance's, back down to his hand, between the two. His face is slack with pure shock—it makes him look younger, somehow, beneath the hair and the scar and the tired stress. Lance is struck with a sudden sympathy; it wasn't that long ago they were all just scared kids, was it? Just a bunch of not-quite-adults tossed into this world before they got their feet under them, dreams and ambitions scattered to the winds.

Slowly, hesitantly, Shiro takes his hand. There's no spark or tingle of power—it's just a hand, and when Lance stands he uses it to pull Shiro up too. Shiro wobbles, unbalanced without his right arm, but he quickly rights himself and lets go.

Lance has just enough energy to call ice to the tips of his fingers. His power is still there. Shiro didn't take it.

"Let's go," he says, and leads him away from the demon in its final throes, towards Choir Delta. They can bring him back to the Association—he'll go quietly, Lance is sure—and he can get a new restraint, and come back to his hunters. This doesn't have to be a crisis. Those days are over; the sooner they can get back to the way things were, back to fighting demons, the better.

* * *

_"Champion's the weirdest villain we've ever had to fight, y'know? He's got more powers than our entire team combined, but he usually tries to run away instead."_

_"And he never attacks civilians—"_

_"Right, he never attacks civilians directly. I mean, people have been hurt. He's got a body count. A big one. I mean, there’s all of Rochester."_

_"But he never goes after them specifically, since then."_

_"Yeah. I don't think he's killed any heroes directly either."_

_"There was Incandia."_

_"Yeah, Incandia. But he didn't land the final blow, I think."_

_"He took her power and_ then _she died, yes."_

_"So, yeah. I mean, he's definitely a villain. But he's not Mortiglow or something."_

_"Do you think he's less dangerous?"_

_"No, no, not at all. I think he's more dangerous."_

_"Explain that to me."_

_"Well, part of it's the powers. We've counted, what, a dozen now? Like, if you stay out of Mortiglow's reach, he can't kill you himself. Champion, it's not like that. You're not safe anywhere. He can teleport, for heaven's sake."_

_"So that's part of it, what's the other part?"_

_"The other part—the big part, I think, is that we have no idea what he's after."_

_"No?"_

_"Well, think about it. A lot of villains target specific things, right? I mean, uh—Jade Menace, we took her down recently, she just robbed banks. That's what she was after. Even Mortiglow, like, he's after power, he's trying to take out heroes and bring more supers under his control. What does Champion want? He's always running away."_

_"Hm."_

_"Yeah. Like, either he already did what he wanted—Rochester, I guess—and now he's just trying not to get caught, or he's planning something big. Really big."_

_"And you don't know what."_

_"Not a damn clue."_

_"So we should watch out."_

_"Definitely. I mean, as always, if you literally see him or any villain, like, in the street, don't approach. Like, get out of there first, then call us. But in a general sense, yeah, watch out for him. We don't know what he's gonna do next."_

_"And now he's in Boston."_

_"Yeah, right now he's our problem. But who knows how long that'll last."_

* * *

"What the fuck happened while I was out?" Pidge asks.

It's a fair question, Lance thinks. They're all fully healed and back in their headquarters after months away—Coran's been in a tizzy over it—and Champion is right there with them, standing in the lobby, looking uncomfortable. He's hardly the only one.

"A lot," Hunk says eventually. Pidge grimaces; they'll have to fill her in on the details later.

"Are you sure you guys can handle this?" Windrunner asks, like her team isn't just as exhausted as his.

"We'll be fine," Lance says. "Someone has to protect the civilians." The hunters are there—Nyma and Rolo have them well in hand—but Lance would feel better with a team of supers on call.

Besides, he's got the feeling the Association is gonna drop this responsibility on him, not Windy.

"Call us if you need us," she says reluctantly, and when he nods she leads her team out. Coran waves at them, phone clamped between ear and shoulder—being redirected through some kind of hell of phone bureaucracy as the people on the other end figure out what to do. On this end, they can only wait.

It's not that hard, Lance thinks. Just give him a new restraint. They didn't exactly have an arm ready last time either but they've still gotta have something lying around, they wouldn't just toss it now that the Hero Crisis is over. And then they can all get back to business. Simple.

"Yes, hello!" Coran says suddenly into the phone, and all eyes turn to him. "I see. Yes, he's cooperating. No, that won't be necessary. I'll send them along right away, thank you! Bye-bye." And he finally lowers the phone.

"They want you to bring him in to the nearest branch headquarters for evaluation."

Shiro, already pale, goes paler.

"Evaluation?" says Lance. "What is there to evaluate? He lost his arm, he's gained his powers, we need to reverse that situation."

Coran just shrugs.

"The sooner we get this over with, the better," says Pidge, already heading toward the door. Chase follows; Allura does too, after a glance back. This is a hell of a first day for her, he's gonna have to sit her down and debrief later.

But for now, he turns to Shiro—and Hunk, the only other person who'll go near him.

"Time to go," he says.

Hunk pats Shiro on the shoulder; Shiro takes a deep breath and nods.

They all cram into the Authority Tau van, for lack of any other way to get there. Chase drives and Pidge sits in front, and Allura and Hunk climb into the back, which leaves Lance and Shiro in the middle. Shiro stares at his hand in his lap and doesn't move the whole ride.

It's probably the awkwardest trip Lance has ever been on—and what with all the blockades and evacuees in the way, it's almost an hour before they pull into the Association branch parking lot. The lot is crammed full but one of the handicap spots has been marked out for them, right by the door—and there's a small crowd of supers there waiting for them. Chase parks and for a moment they all kind of sit there.

"Welp," Lance says eventually. "Everyone out, I guess."

This isn't like the first time, he thinks, as he slides the van door open and hops out. No handcuffs or sirens—and they certainly didn't bring him here in their own van last time.

But the dead silence when Shiro's feet hit the pavement—that's the same.

"I... guess you guys can wait here, if you want," Lance says to the rest of the team. "Looks like it's... busy today."

Looks like everyone showed up in case Champion makes a move, really, but he doesn't want to _say_ that.

"I'll come," Hunk says nervously, and Shiro glances at him and almost smiles, just for a second—some tiny part of the tension in his shoulders leaves him. Then they start towards the entrance and the waiting supers, leaving the rest of the team behind, and he tenses right back up again anyway. The supers part in front of the door, and they step through—Lance in front, Shiro in the middle, and Hunk bringing up the rear.

Everything stops the moment they walk in. They had to know this was coming, but somehow there's an air of shock anyway, like they can't believe it's actually _happening._ Lance can relate.

What's more important to him, though, is that Shiro looks fucking _miserable._ He's hunched inward in a vain attempt at making himself smaller, eyes fixed on the ground, flesh hand clutching his sparking stump again—and the Shiro Lance has come to know isn't like this. He's confident, open, lighthearted, even if his sense of humor is a little morbid—not this... sad, broken man.

 _You can't think of him as a victim,_ he reminds himself. _He's still dangerous._

Silently the three of them are directed through the lobby, down the hall to an office. In the office is a desk, and behind the desk is a white-haired man.

"Pridehand," Shiro whispers, the first he's spoken since they left the street outside the subway station.

Shit, if Lance had known Boris were here, he would've... delayed, or tried another branch, or something. This is only going to make things worse.

"Not anymore," says Boris, stiffly, in his thick accent. "Thanks to you."

That leaves them with possibly one of the awkwardest silences Lance has ever experienced. He sidles up to the desk with a nervous chuckle.

"Uh, hey, man. We, uh... came here to get him a new restraint. 'Cause as you can see, the old one is... a little... broken."

Boris looks constipated as he glances between Lance and Shiro's still intermittently sparking arm. "A little broken."

"I can give it back!" Shiro blurts suddenly, and immediately looks horrified at himself, shrinking in again with wide eyes. "I-I mean, your power. I can... give it back. I think, probably," he adds.

Oh. Now _that's_ something. A little surprising—not really that it would occur to Shiro to offer, but that he is when Boris has every reason to distrust him and probably hates him more than anyone else in this building. And that it might be possible at all, frankly.

Boris stands, then, and leans forward over the desk to look Shiro straight in the eye. Shiro visibly swallows.

"You say this," Boris slowly. "What the hell makes you think I will take you at your word?"

Shiro's mouth opens and closes, like a fish. Lance decides it's time he step in.

"I would," he says firmly, and both turn to look at him. "Besides, it's not like he can take anything else from you, can he?"

"He still has other powers," Boris points out, eyes narrowed. Lance shrugs.

"I know this probably sounds crazy, coming from me—like, all things considered—but I have no reason to believe he'll use them. Right, Bunker?"

"Totally," Hunk says quickly, nodding vigorously.

"I don't know if he _can_ give back your power," Lance adds, "but I trust that he's willing to try."

Shiro gapes at him. A great deal of onlookers do too. But Boris squints at him, and he returns his gaze steadily—because if this is something Shiro can do, _will_ do, then it'll change everything.

And maybe Shiro can get a shot at redemption, too.

"Very well," Boris says, and he turns and holds out a hand, as if for a handshake. "We will see if you are all talk, or not."

"O-oh," says Shiro, all but recoiling, as though he hadn't actually expected to have the opportunity. Which... he probably hadn't. He reaches out, slowly, and takes Boris's hand.

Lance holds his breath. The hall—still full of onlookers—is completely silent.

Then Boris yanks his hand back, retreating to his side of the desk, and Shiro lowers his own hand, clenching and unclenching it in some kind of nervous tic. Boris examines his palm, glancing up from at Shiro a couple of times; he frowns, and then light crackles across his fingers.

Boris's eyebrows shoot up, and the hall lets out a collective murmur. Lance lets out the breath he'd been holding, and grins.

"Nice one," he says.

Shiro looks over at him and his face brightens. He almost, but doesn't quite, smile.

"In light of this... development," Boris says, still examining his hand, "I will have to deny your request for a new restraint."

Shiro's face falls. Lance raises his eyebrows, but, considering, he's not really surprised. He can easily guess what Boris is thinking, as he looks back up at Shiro.

"You have many more powers to return, Champion," he says.

Shiro purses his lips, but he can't very well refuse. He's on unsteady ground as it is. So he nods, and Lance takes a deep breath.

"Well!" he says, falsely bright. "What now, then?"

Shiro and Boris both look to him, and the latter lowers his hand at last.

"That is for the Board to decide," he says. "But in the meantime, he is your responsibility."

That... is less than ideal. "Mine?"

"All of yours." Boris glances at Hunk, too, who shrinks back a little. "Go, now. Inform your team." He waves a hand at them.

Well, shit. So they have to keep an eye on Shiro _and_ protect a city overrun by demons. And evacuate the rest of the residents in the danger zones. God, it's probably for the best they're in the midst of a crisis, or else the media would be in a frenzy.

It's probably best, come to think of it, if no one finds out Shiro is unrestrained. The last thing the public needs right now is another reason to panic.

"Well, this'll be fun," Lance sighs. "C'mon, guys." He shoos them back down the hall, and they retrace their steps through the staring crowds and out the front door.

Shiro glances back, several times, as though he expects someone to come out and stop them. But no one does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry shiro... love u


	6. my past has tasted bitter for years now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [i'll be good - jaymes young](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mkMVyw-7avI)

The ride back to headquarters is as silent and awkward as the ride in. Maybe moreso, because Shiro is still there with his sparking arm and all his powers. He's looking out the window this time, elbow against the window and chin in hand, face grim as he watches the world go by that he now has to face, knowing what he's done.

Ignorance really is bliss, Lance thinks.

"Did you know?" he asks into the quiet of the van, and Shiro starts.

"What?"

"When you had the restraint, and you didn't remember what you'd done. Did you ever figure it out?"

Shiro is quiet for a moment.

"Not in specifics," he says, and there's a sort of release in the atmosphere, like everyone had been holding their breath waiting for the answer. "I knew there was something. Not everyone could hide that they recognized me."

"And you never tried to look it up?" Hunk asks. "Like, you never googled yourself to find out what you didn't remember?"

"They took his name off the internet," Allura says.

"There's no such thing as taking something off the internet. Once it's up it's there forever."

Shiro hunches down and looks out the window again. "I didn't want to know why everyone was afraid of me," he says quietly, and the van falls silent again. Pidge and Chase are steadfastly ignoring what's happening behind them but Lance can see the tension in their bodies.

Lance is beginning to think, though, that reconciling Champion with Shiro may not be as difficult as it seems. At least, Champion at the end of the Hero Crisis: the villain that always ran away, that never attacked, only defended. Not wanting to remember what he's done—he can imagine that of late-Crisis Champion.

Early-Crisis Champion, though, is another story. Even if he tried to pull a heel-face turn sometime mid-Crisis, he still destroyed an entire city—and that's something Lance can't believe of _Shiro,_ despite knowing perfectly well he did it. What could've made him change so much?

It's probably best not to ask, Lance decides, looking at him still hunched at the window. At least, not yet. Not now.

* * *

By the time they get back to headquarters, the level of tension in the van has decreased somewhat, like the longer they go without attacking each other the less they expect to be attacked. That doesn't stop Chase, Pidge, and Allura from avoiding Shiro entirely the moment they're out of the van. Even Hunk, after glancing between them, follows the others, leaving Lance alone in the lobby with Shiro.

Well, at least they're here and not in the office building, for now. They can't exactly bring him back there where already-panicked citizens can see him unbound.

"Well," Lance says after a moment. "Welcome to Authority Tau, I guess."

"Do you usually greet your prisoners this way?" Shiro asked flatly.

"You're not a prisoner," Lance protests, to which Shiro gives him a look. "Okay, you're under house arrest. It's not like we're gonna lock you in the basement." He pauses. "I think."

"Lock me in the basement if it'll make your team feel better about this," Shiro says. "It doesn't matter."

Lance raises an eyebrow. "Our basement isn't exactly prime living space, dude."

Shiro looks away. "It's fine."

Alright, either he has Plans for their basement, or he doesn't think he deserves better. Lance doesn’t like either option very much.

"Right, well, we can discuss the basement later. Let's get lunch or something first, I'm starving." Lance gestures towards the HQ kitchen. "After you."

"I... okay." Shiro goes.

The kitchen is in mild disarray when they walk in, like someone left in a hurry. Lance casually shuts the cabinet door that's still hanging open on the way to the fridge while Shiro hangs back, stiff and uncertain.

"Dunno what's even here, it's been so long—oh shit, Coran stocked up. Hey, you like spaghetti?"

"...Sure?"

Lance tosses a container of leftover spaghetti into the microwave and turns to lean against the counter. Shiro is still hovering in the doorway.

"Y'know, I'm not actually sure how we're gonna work this," Lance says slowly. "Because we can't leave you unsupervised, but we can't really bring you back to the front lines either—but we still have a city to protect."

"I'm not going to hurt anyone or run away—I know you can't exactly take me at my word, but it's true," Shiro says quickly. "I don't want to go through that again."

Lance snorts. "I believe you on that front, but I don't know how much of the rest of the team does—and anyway, it's not really for anyone's sake but ours, because it's _our_ asses the Association will kick if we let you out of our sight. Before they send everyone they've got to hunt you down, anyway."

Shiro pales. "I'll definitely stay put, then."

"Yeah, and that's good, but the question remains: what to do with you?" Lance rubs his chin. "We might have to just keep someone back to watch you everytime we go out. Or I guess we could bring you to battle and you can just stand with Hunk the whole time—I mean, the Association would hate that, but frankly, they can suck my dick."

Shiro lets out a surprised snort and immediately covers his mouth with his hand.

"Please, don't restrain yourself, I know I'm hilarious." Lance grins. "But seriously, they've saddled us with conflicting responsibilities so they get no right to complain. The other problem, though, is the powers thing."

Shiro's face falls again. "I know what I have. I'm not sure I remember who they all... came from."

Lance waves a hand. "I'm sure the Association has records of that stuff, and anyway, it's not like the people whose powers you took won't remember. It's just another logistical problem—you can't exactly go gallivanting off across the eastern seaboard to return people's powers when we're responsible for you. They'll have to come to us."

"...Okay."

"I dunno how many will even _want_ their powers back," Lance muses idly, looking up at the ceiling while the microwave hums. "I wouldn't, maybe." Maybe. He's got a lot of feelings about that and he doesn't really want to sort through them right now—and anyway, it's far too late.

"Really?" Shiro asks quietly. The microwave beeps, and Lance turns as much to attend to it as to hide his face.

"Yeah, being a superhero's not... really a choice," he says. "Either you register on purpose, or you wait until they find you. Or you become a villain, I guess."

When he turns back, two plates of spaghetti in hand, he finds Shiro nodding slowly.

"I took... a lot of powers from villains because of that," Shiro says, and Lance blinks—that wasn't what he expected.

"Huh?"

"Because they didn't want to be villains," Shiro explains. " _Or_ heroes. They fell in with the serious villains for protection, because the sensors would find them if they didn't, and then they had to pay for that protection. But if they had an escape, they'd take it."

Lance's heart seizes in his chest. He puts the plates down slowly and sits. "So they gave you their powers so they could get out and live a normal life again."

Shiro nods. "The villains' sensors couldn't find them either. They could return to their families safely."

If there was anything at all that could make Lance wish he'd turned villain, back when he had the choice, this is it. Fuck. He almost wishes it weren't far, far too late.

"Goddamn, I wish we'd met back in Rochester," he says, and Shiro makes a face that wants to be a smile but is more of a confused grimace.

"I... didn't know you were there," he says. "I don't remember fighting you until I got here."

Lance shrugs and twirls some spaghetti onto his fork. "That's where they found me, so they shipped me down here before the Crisis really began. That's ancient history, though." He racks his brain for some way to change the subject, and fast, because the less he dwells on the time he spent in Rochester, the better. "It's almost funny that you did that for the villains, actually. I mean, we noticed a couple of times that you were using powers that belonged to villains that'd vanished, but like... that was definitely not the assumption."

Shiro shrinks again, picks at his spaghetti. "I can imagine."

"It makes sense _now,_ though. Like... man." Lance shakes his head. "When you came in as a demon hunter, it was so bizarre. I mean, we only knew you as a villain, and you show up and you're like, the nicest guy ever? Super polite? The fucking _whiplash,_ man."

Shiro only gives him a strangled chuckle as a response.

"But I guess you've always been kinda like that. We just didn't know." Lance frowns, as a thought occurs to him, and he looks up at Shiro intently; the man is looking away, shifting uncomfortably.

"You didn't want to be a villain either, did you?" he asks, keeping his voice slow and gentle, and Shiro's eyes snap back to him, widening. Ah.

"...No," Shiro says, and sags. "I really didn't."

Goddamn. Okay.

But then another thought occurs to Lance—or, rather, a question resurfaces that's been bugging him for longer than there have been demons. Because while he can match up what he knows of Shiro in some way to most of what he knows of Champion, there's one clear anomaly.

"Okay, so, question," he says, and Shiro tenses right back up again. "What about Rochester? Like... why?"

Shiro takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. For a moment, Lance thinks he's not going to answer.

"I thought I could stop it," Shiro says though, quiet, and Lance pauses with fork halfway to mouth.

"Stop what?" he asks.

Shiro shrugs. "Everything. Superpowers. The Shimmering Sky."

Slowly, Lance puts his fork down.

"How?" he asks.

Shiro takes a deep breath again. "People were starting to figure out that the sky was causing everyone's powers," he says. "And I can... take powers. I thought, maybe I could..." He gestures vaguely. "Absorb it, or something. At the very least, make it stop spreading."

Lance sits back. "Your powers work at touch range," he says. "The Shimmering Sky is called that for a reason, and I _know_ you didn't have Blazecrow's power yet."

"I had Cosmo's."

"You... teleported into the sky?"

Shiro nods. "I can't shadow-jump rapidly enough to... hover, but it was a new moon, so it was dark enough, if I just went high enough..." He trails off.

Lance has never considered himself to be afraid of heights, but he's not sure he could bring himself to teleport into empty sky even momentarily. He shudders. "What happened?"

Shiro sighs. "I'm not sure, exactly."

Lance raises an eyebrow. "Well, obviously it worked part of the way. It stopped expanding. But Rochester didn't raze itself."

Shiro's fingers dig into the table. "I'm not sure the first part was me," he admits. "But Rochester... it's hard to explain."

Lance leans forward. "You realize this is the sticking point, right? If it weren't for Rochester, I don't think it'd be too hard to convince people you never meant to be a villain. You spent an awful lot of time _not_ attacking anyone." He leans back again. "It could make sense to people. But if you can't explain Rochester... well, not many would be inclined to believe you anyway, but you need to at least _try_."

Shiro's hand curls into a fist against the table. "I...I thought it was working, at first," he says quietly. "I could feel it. But then I realized it didn't feel like a power; it felt like it was draining _me_."

"But it _gave_ us powers," says Lance.

"I know." Shiro shrugs hopelessly. "But that's what it felt like. And I looked down and all the lights of the cars were frozen—like time had stopped. So I stopped. And I was still too high to see a safe place to shadow-jump, and I was falling, anyway, so I teleported to right above the Genesee River. I was underwater when it... backfired."

"The explosion," Lance says.

"Yes." Shiro runs his hand through his hair, voice hoarse. "I don't know why, or how. I could feel the shockwaves. When I got out of the river, the sky was still shimmering, and Rochester was... gone."

He hunches inward, hand pressed to his temple, half-hiding his face. Lance stares thoughtfully. If what Shiro is saying is true, then he really did have the best of intentions—only for it to go horribly, horribly wrong.

And Lance is surprised to find he believes him—in that he didn't intend harm, at the very least.

"Another thing," he says as a thought occurs to him. "If you were in midair, and it had worked... you would've died. You wouldn't have had your powers to save you."

Shiro sighs. "I know. I never expected to hit the ground, anyway. I figured just stopping the shimmering alone would kill me." He shrugs, voice almost casual in comparison to his explanation. "I should've kept going even though it felt wrong. Maybe it would've worked. Maybe it would've destroyed Rochester anyway, but it would've killed me, too, and none of you would've had to... deal with me."

Lance sits back, pondering what to say. There's no denying he caused them trouble—or that people died because of him. But shit, he's saved lives, too. He saved Lance.

It would be so easy to push him away, to lock him up to rot. There’s a billion people out there who’d say that’s all he deserves. Lance doesn’t want to be that kind of person.

"If you were dead, there'd be a lot more demons out there right now," he says finally. "It's not for me to say if it was worth it. Maybe it will be, someday. But I—we—appreciate the help, anyway."

Shiro's eyes snap up to meet his, and his face twists, for a moment, like he can't decide how to feel about it. He settles on unsure as he lowers his hand.

"You... believe me?" he asks.

Lance leans his elbows on the table. "I think I've gotten to know you pretty well over the last, what, month? Month and a half? And it makes sense to me that you didn't _intend_ to destroy the city. I've never seen you do _anything_ with malicious intent, not even demon-killing. So, I don't think most people will believe you, but yes. I do."

Shiro still looks unsure for a moment, searching his face, but he must find whatever he's looking for, because he smiles. A small, weak smile, but a smile all the same.

"Thank you," he says.

"Yeah dude, anytime." Lance smiles back and resumes his spaghetti. He gestures at Shiro's plate. "Eat."

"Right, thank you." Shiro digs in—a little clumsily, with his left hand, but he manages fine.

"Okay, I have an easier question," Lance asks after maybe thirty seconds.

Shiro looks up at him, mouth full of spaghetti, but he doesn't look like he's bracing for impact this time, so that's something.

"Two, actually. 'Cause first, like, if you have the powers of minor villains, and then there are a couple heroes who died—you're still gonna have half a dozen extra powers, even if all the living heroes come back to claim theirs, right?"

Shiro swallows. "Eight, actually, I think," he says. "And yes."

"Hm. Yeah, okay, you're never gonna be harmless, but we can work with that. Okay, second question: If the major villains have their own sensors, they have nullifiers, too. Is that why no one could ever find you?"

"...At first." Shiro looks down at his plate. "I was stuck with Mortiglow for a while, but he couldn't threaten me like the rest because neither of us were sure if I could take his power before he killed me, if it came to that."

_Yikes._

"He had two nullifiers, Nyx and Nightshade, so eventually I stole Nyx's power and just... hid myself." His gaze flicks up, then back down to his plate. "That's another power I won't be returning."

"No, I guess you'll have to keep that one, too," Lance agrees. "The Association's gonna want to know all this, y'know."

"I suppose so," Shiro says.

"But in the _meantime,_ we gotta do something about your arm after we eat." Lance gestures to his broken prosthetic. "We can't leave it all trailing wires like that."

"It doesn't come off."

"It doesn't come off with all the restraint mumbo-jumbo running, but they had to get it _on_ you somehow, so there's gotta be a way to get it back off. Pidge is probably a lost cause but I bet Hunk'll help."

"Oh." Shiro brightens up a bit. "Yes, probably."

"That's the spirit." Lance grins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope this answers some questions ;)
> 
> btw, mortiglows power was deathtouch--like, he could kill you by touching you. very similar to shiros power, actually. luckily hes not a problem now, he got taken down a while back (the "hero crisis" they keep mentioning? ended when both mortiglow and champion had been defeated. it was a whole thing. ill probably never write it tho :v )
> 
> you can reblog liviemomo's art [here](http://liviemomo.tumblr.com/post/175258906725/picture-number-three-fic)!


	7. as brothers we will stand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [timshel - mumford & sons](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q_5t2sTaYlw)

"Ice!" Windrunner shouts as he walks into the office building. "You're back! Good."

"Don't get excited, Windy," he warns, and comes and slumps against the front desk, where she's currently sitting. "They didn't give him a restraint, which means we're on babysitting duty. I just came to check in and grab some stuff."

Windy pales, which seems like a dramatic reaction, but alright. "They didn't? So he's still unbound?"

"Yup." Lance pops the P. "As if it weren't hard enough to deal with all our spawn points, even with your help. I guess you guys are gonna be in charge out here for now, we can't exactly bring him back to a building full of civilians."

Windy stares. "They didn't tell you?" she whispers.

"What?" Lance lifts his head.

"Icicle. They're pulling us out."

Lance straightens up in an instant. "They're _what?_ "

"They're pulling us out," Windrunner repeats. "Some emergency in New York. I thought... I thought they were going to send reinforcements back with you when you got Shiro the new restraint. Did they?"

"No! They just shooed us away!" Lance throws his arms up. "How the fuck are we supposed to—we have to watch Shiro _and_ evacuate the city, and they're pulling you out!? Are they taking our hunters too!? Fuck." He covers his face with his hands and takes a deep breath. The Association fucking has it out for him, he's sure. Always putting him in impossible situations—is this his punishment? Hasn't he already atoned? And why _now?_ Why _here,_ where there's still half a city of civilians to protect? What the fuck are they aiming at, setting him up to fail?

He is struck, not for the first time, with the thought that back then, back in Rochester, the one they'd really wanted was Keith.

"Ice. Icicle," Windrunner is saying. "Hey, breathe. Do they... do they want you to use Shiro? If they didn't give him a restraint..."

Lance snorts humorlessly. "No, he's not allowed to use any of his powers, unless it's to give a former hero their power back. That's why: he returned Pridehand's power today."

Windrunner is silent for a moment.

"There must be some misunderstanding," she says finally. “Or something we're missing. They wouldn't just… abandon you.”

“If it's a misunderstanding, they'd better sort it out fast,” Lance says flatly. Yeah, like the Association doesn't know _exactly_ what they're doing.

"This is..." Windrunner rubs the back of her neck. "Well, we can't… not go. We'll stay as long as we can—I don't know for how long, and I don't know what fate we're leaving New York to, but if we leave now..."

People will die. Neither of them want to say it.

"Thanks, Windy," Lance says. "Seriously."

“Of course,” she says. “I'm sure they'll come back with a correction soon, but in the meantime, we need to keep the civilians safe. We're heroes, after all.”

Like all or even the majority of superheroes chose this to begin with. Like they're here because they wanted to make the world a better place.

He doesn't quite manage a grin. "Right. Heroes."

* * *

His team doesn't take the news any better than he did, when he gets back to headquarters and tells them. The anger quickly settles into despair even after he tells them Windrunner will stay as long as she can.

"I don't understand why the Association would do this," Allura says. "There must be some mistake."

"That's what Windy said. She's gonna follow up on it, but until then, we gotta step up on getting civilians outta here," says Lance. "If we really do lose Choir Delta, we'll probably have to switch to a defensive stance."

"We _can't_ ," Pidge argues. "If we don't go out and kill all the demons they'll just build up—"

"We don't have the _resources,_ Pidge. Or did you already forget what happened this morning?"

Pidge huffs and folds her arms. "If we switch to defense, we'll lose the city. Full stop."

Lance sighs, leans against the nearest table. "I _know,_ Pidge, but we'll last a little longer before we're overrun, and that means more civilians saved. Maybe we can petition the Association for assistance or something. It's a lost fucking cause anyway."

"And why's that?" she asks sharply.

He gives her a pointed look. "Because no one knows how to close the damned spawn points, is why. They're just gonna keep coming no matter what we do. Sooner or later, either their army runs out, or ours does."

That statement is greeted by silence.

Chase is the one to break it, with a quiet, “Shit,” as he starts pacing. Pidge drops onto the nearest couch and throws her arm over her eyes. Allura sinks into a chair. Hunk bites his fingernails. And Shiro, sitting in the corner where they can keep an eye on him, just stares at his lap.

"I'm sorry," he says after a moment. "This is my fault."

Lance opens his mouth to object... and closes it again. He's right; it pretty much _is_ his fault, even if by accident.

"Damn right it is," Pidge says, though, sitting up to glare at him. "All of this is your fault. You had to go and lose your arm, and now the Association is punishing all of us for it, and then you couldn't even get a new one? Now you're just fucking _deadweight._ As if all the shit you've done wasn't enough!"

"Pidge," Lance interjects gently. "If he hadn't stepped in, I'd be dead."

Pidge stand abruptly, shaking with fury, and fixes him with a glare so intense he shrinks back.

" _Then he should have died in your place,_ " she hisses, and stalks out of the room. Another long silence follows.

"We're so _fucked_ ," Hunk moans. Lance is inclined to agree.

"Don't give up yet," he says anyway. "Windy's still here, and I don't want to believe the Association's gonna endanger civilians on purpose—I'm sure there was just some kind of mistake, and it'll get sorted out soon. We just gotta hold out in the meantime." He barely believes his own words.

"For how long, though?" Chase asks.

Lance sighs. "I don't know."

Allura is looking silently at her lap. He still has to talk to her, he realizes.

"There's nothing else we can do, for now. You two are on Shiro duty," he says to Chase and Hunk. "I need to talk to Allura."

"Aye-aye, captain," Chase says sullenly. Hunk nods. Lance gestures to Allura, and they head out of the living room and into the kitchen.

"Sorry I didn't get a chance to really fill you in earlier," he says. "Trust me when I say things aren't usually this much of a disaster."

She nods. "I understand the circumstances are unusual. I could not have expected you to handle this any better."

Lance isn't sure if that's supposed to be a compliment or an insult, frankly, so he skips over it. "Well, at this point I don't know if things _are_ gonna go back to normal, so if they do we can cover that stuff then. But in the meantime... welcome to the team, I guess. It's gonna be hectic."

"I can handle it," she says.

"I sure hope so, because it might be all on you soon—and no matter how hard we try, we all get injured. A lot." Lance lifts his hands. "I'm not trying to scare you or anything, just want you to know what you're gonna be dealing with, so you're prepared."

She nods. "I understand. I _have_ spent plenty of time healing supers, albeit not in the field."

She fixes him with a look at that—so she still suspects, damn—but he waves it away.

"I think you'll find it's a little different out here." He shrugs. "But I'm sure you'll adjust. If you have any questions about your place on the team, ask any of us."

"I will." She's still giving him that look, though.

"On the bright side, though, you get a real bed after all," he says. "It's probably still labeled as Polly's room, unless Coran has changed it already."

She smiles a little at that. "I'll admit, that is something of a relief."

"Yeah, you've definitely spent too much time at headquarters." Lance grins. "Like I said—you'll adjust."

She rolls her eyes at that. At least she's not offended by his teasing; that's a good sign that she'll fit right in.

"So, yep," he finishes, slapping his knees and standing. "Settle in, watch out for Shiro, pray the demons take pity on us. Any questions?"

"Only personal ones," she says pointedly.

"Yeah, I'm gonna have to pass on that one," he says breezily. "Gonna go find Pidge and make sure she cools off before she breaks anything, bye." He makes his escape.

Really, the least she can do is let the past stay in the past. He's got enough to deal with, thanks.

He finds Pidge sulking on the roof, as she often does. He settles down next to her and waits.

"My brother and father were in Rochester for research," she says finally into her knees. "So don't tell me I have to be nice to him when he knows perfectly well what he did."

Somehow he doesn't think telling her it was an _accident_ will help. "I won't. I'm sorry, Pidge."

"They never even found my brother. I don't have to be nice to him."

"You don't," says Lance. "You're allowed to be angry. I would be, too."

"There's a 'but' coming," she mutters.

"But I believe he doesn't actively mean us harm right now, and I'd rather you didn't provoke him," he says carefully. "I know you're angry!" he adds quickly when she looks up to glare at him. "But we're stuck with him for now, and how miserable this situation is is up to all of us. Be angry, by all means, I'm not asking you to forgive him—just not to antagonize him."

Her face screws up. "He's a villain."

"He was a villain. Now he's a prisoner, but he's still dangerous, and I don't wanna have to fight him again. You see what I'm saying?"

She huffs and rests her chin on her knees. "Yeah."

"And?"

"And I won't intentionally provoke him," she grumbles.

"Thank you."

She snorts and looks away, but doesn't leave or push him away, so he stays. It's getting late in the afternoon—usually they'd have been out killing demons for most of the day, but maybe Windy's been taking care of it. Or the hunters. The city looks even emptier from above, somehow—the empty streets more obvious the more of them he sees.

He can't say he's ever felt a particular love for this city—it's just where he's stationed, and anyway, his job means he tended only to see the worst parts of it—but seeing it like this is just... sad.

"You would've liked my brother," Pidge says then, barely above a whisper.

"Yeah?" Lance says, equally quiet.

"Yeah. He was like you. A mediator. Funny." She turns her head away. "...Caring."

He nudges her shoulder. "Always knew you liked me, after all."

She elbows him in return. "Shut up," she says, but she leans into his side anyway. They stay like that for a while, looking out across the empty city, until a distant siren goes off, echoing faintly across the city. Pidge sighs and stands to stretch.

"I'll go check it out," she says, and unfolds her wings and takes off. Lance goes back inside, down to the rest of their headquarters to find the others.

"Heard the siren?" asks Chase as Lance steps into the kitchen.

"Yeah. Pidge is checking it out, but get ready to go."

"Sure thing."

Lance continues on to the living room; Allura is reading in a chair and Hunk and Shiro are on the couch, hunched over the coffee table, where a barely-started puzzle lies in front of them.

"Get ready, guys," he tells them, before flopping into the free chair. "Something's happening and we might be needed."

"What are we gonna do about Shiro?" Hunk asks.

Lance shrugs. "Bring him with us? We can't exactly leave him here. Shiro... just try not to get involved, yeah?"

Shiro nods quickly. "Of course."

"There." Lance leans back and closes his eyes. "Problem solved."

"Are you... napping?" Shiro asks after a moment.

"Mhm. Wake me when Pidge comes back."

* * *

Lance doesn't have time for a proper nap, unsurprisingly; Pidge returns before he can more than doze, and soon they're all heading back uptown. The whole team, and Shiro awkwardly tagging along.

It's not as weird as it was when he first arrived, but... it's definitely a lot weirder than it was yesterday. He's got this itch in the back of his head about it, constantly reminding him that Shiro remembers now—that no matter how friendly they've become, he's dangerous.

Might be easier if he _felt_ dangerous, though.

Still, when they get to the demons and find that Choir Delta and the hunters—now led by Nyma and Rolo—are holding out okay after all, he figures it's okay if he goes ahead and escorts Shiro back to headquarters alone.

"I'll be fine," he says to Pidge's glare and Chase and Hunk's worried looks. "Seriously, we're not supposed to bring him into battle anyway, and I trust you guys to handle this. I can take care of myself."

"Hunk and I can watch him from here," Allura points out. "You need not endanger yourself."

Lance glances at the demons. "Life is danger, Allura. How about we just chill a block or two away and then if anything happens, we're all close to each other. Can you guys tolerate that?"

"Fine, but be careful," says Chase.

"I'm always careful. Come on, Shiro." And he leads Shiro back down the street. There used to be a little coffee shop around here, he's pretty sure—it's probably been looted by now, but the looters probably left the comfy chairs. So he turns down a side road to look for it.

Which is why, with the buildings muffling the sound of battle, he hears another sound—the telltale grumbling and clicking of moving demons.

He gestures to Shiro for quiet and creeps down the street, eyes peeled for any sign of where it's coming from. They turn down one street, then another, cautiously following the sound away from the others, back more or less the way they came.

And then the noises stop.

Lance freezes in place, and Shiro all but runs into him. He makes a questioning noise.

"You heard that, right?" Lance whispers.

"Yeah," Shiro whispers back. "Demons. Where'd they go?"

"Dunno." Lance creeps forward and peers around the next building. It looks clear, so he steps forward.

And finds an enormous demon standing just in his blind spot, turned away; it sniffs curiously.

Lance scrambles to turn, shoving Shiro ahead of him into the nearest building as the demon turns. Heavy footsteps shuffle behind them; more approach, and they duck away behind the store counter as several large shadows pass by.

Great, now he's trapped in an abandoned building with Champion. Somehow, when he promised to stay nearby in case of trouble, he doesn't think this is the kind of trouble his team had in mind. And, more to the point, he can't contact them for help—what's he gonna do, holler? The cell towers are down—he hasn't even had a phone in years—and anyway, the demons will hear.

They hold their breaths until the stamping and shuffling moves away from the outer wall; when it does, Lance peeks above the counter and out through the dirty glass.

Well, they're definitely class fours—too big and spiky to be anything less, and intelligent enough to be actively searching the street outside. It's only a matter of time before they search this building, too, and find them here. And it won't be _much_ time, either, because there are three—no, four of them. Four class fours at once.

"This is fucking unprecedented," Lance mutters.

"Ice?" Shiro whispers. "I don't think this building has a backdoor."

"Shit." Lance ducks back down out of sight. "Are you sure?"

"Well, it does, but it's where we came in. In a dead end side alley leading back out there." He points to the front.

Lance racks his brain. "Did you see any stairs on the way in? Fire escape, maybe?"

Shiro shakes his head. "Nothing."

" _Shit._ There's too many." Lance sits down against the back of the counter. "We can't get back to the others."

"You don't have a way to contact them?"

"You think the Association gives us cell phones? Internet access? Damn, I wish." Lance runs a hand through his hair. "I don't suppose you still have a walkie talkie on you?"

Shiro shakes his head. "Nyma took it."

"Figures." Lance closes his eyes, hearing the demons moving around just yards away. Shiro shifts next to him, a slight rustle of cloth, but he doesn't speak further. If the demons out there were class ones, Lance could probably take them, but they're most definitely _not._ Maybe they could do it together, if Shiro helped, but he's not supposed to use his powers.

Then again, it's not like there's anyone here to see but Lance. Who's gonna rat on Shiro, himself?

"Hey," he says, and cracks an eye open to look at him. "You've still got like, twenty different powers, yeah?"

Shiro's brow furrows. "Yes, but I'm not allowed to use them."

"I won't tell if you don't."

Shiro's eyes widen. "You're... okay with it?"

"Well, are you planning to kill me?" Lance asks pointedly.

Shiro looks offended. "No!"

"Gonna steal my power?"

"Of course not."

"Gonna run away?"

Shiro hesitates at that, but then he sighs.

"I have nowhere to go," he says. "Everyone recognizes me—there's nowhere I can hide."

Better to stick to the prison you know, Lance thinks. He nods.

"Then yeah, I'm okay with it. I trust you."

Maybe that was too much, because now Shiro looks a little bit like he's gonna cry. He stares open-mouthed at Lance for a moment.

Lance nods back toward the front. "Well?"

"Right! Yes, of course." Shiro scrambles to his feet, almost falling back over without his right arm to keep him balanced. "I... thank you, Lance."

Lance waves it away. "I'm making you do all the work here, dude, don't _thank_ me."

That makes Shiro smile. "Then, you're welcome," he says, and just walks right out the door.

Now that's a power move. Lance has _gotta_ see this. He gets up on his knees and peers over the counter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can reblog astraias art [here](https://crystalpallette.tumblr.com/post/175813670801/hhf-consistent-art-style-whats-that-art-for)!
> 
> yeah matts dead. hes actually for real dead, unlike certain other characters...


	8. take these broken wings and learn to fly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [blackbird - the beatles](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Man4Xw8Xypo)
> 
> finally the song this fic was named after :D

It doesn't take long for the demons to notice Shiro; he's not exactly being subtle, striding out into the street like that. Only two of them even bother approaching, the rest being content to watch.

But Lance has seen Shiro fend off multiple teams of supers at once. Those demons don't know what's coming for them.

Shiro starts off slow. He takes a trick from Lance's book and freezes one of the demons in place, ice gluing it to the street from afar—that power's from Frostbite. The other is struck by a sudden bolt of lightning—from Litbug—stunning it momentarily while Shiro moves in closer. He jams something one-handed into the demon's leg—a dagger from Quicksilver, Lance thinks—and then leaps away into the form of bright orange bird—from Blazecrow. He flaps uselessly as the demon roars in pain and barely tumbles out of the way of its blow—his right wing is missing. Shit, Lance didn't realize his arm would affect shapechanging, and apparently Shiro didn't either.

He changes back into person shape quickly, and takes the next blow against his remaining arm—he probably reinforced his skin, that power's from Rawhide. Then he scrambles back up and makes for the fire escape across the street as the remaining demons converge. Even one-handed, by the time the first demon has broken free of the ice, Shiro's on the roof. Lance grins; the demons have gathered themselves together so neatly for a guy that has hydrokinesis—from Aquarion—and a great view of the nearby river right now.

Sure enough, moments later, Lance can hear the sound of rushing water.

"Yes," he whispers, as the street floods with dirty water, carefully contained to the pavement. There's another bolt of lightning—it strikes the water and zaps them all. " _Yes_."

There's a few bolts of blinding light, too, shooting from Shiro's hand—from Incandia—as he takes advantage of his viewpoint. They don't do much but to wear the demons down; even so, it's not long before the demons start climbing after him. Shiro tosses a handful of something into the water below—if that's a power, it's not one Lance recognizes—and ducks away out of sight.

With no apparent target, the demons start to part, hunting in different directions for their tormentor. Lance waits with bated breath—Shiro has shadow-jumping from Cosmo, if he can get inside where it's dark he could reappear anywhere.

Before he does, though, several somethings erupt from the water—twisted, gnarled trees, growing at an insane pace. They must have been from the things Shiro threw earlier, which means it's probably a power from a villain who escaped before they made any headlines. The trees entangle the demons, trapping them again as the water finally recedes.

Shiro steps out from inside the trees, and places his hand on one. It bursts into flames.

That's another power Lance doesn't recognize—probably because if Shiro ever got in touch range of someone it made more sense to just take their power than to set them on fire. And thank god, because _yikes._

Shiro jogs away from the trees, the rest of which are quickly catching fire too, and just... stands back to watch. And all at once Lance remembers why Champion was so terrifying: the sheer power, sure, but moreso the casual competency with which he used it—like he always knew exactly what to do and when. The sense that not only was he stronger, but smarter, too—Lance had gotten a lot of praise for outwitting him, but he remembers now the sharp, nagging feeling that he hadn't outwitted him, not at all. Shiro had just given up.

When it becomes clear that none of the demons are getting out of the burning grove, Shiro turns and jogs back to Lance's hiding place. Lance stands to meet him as Shiro steps in, panting.

"Done," he says.

"Jesus fuck," says Lance. "Christ. Dude."

"Heh." Shiro puts his hand on his knee for a moment to breathe, then straightens slowly. "I have to admit... that felt really good."

"No kidding. Okay. Well..." Lance looks out the window. "You've made a bit of a mess, so, uh, hiding this will be a problem."

"I can bring back the river when the fire burns out," Shiro says.

"That... works." Lance drags a hand back through his hair. "Okay! This has been enlightening. Let's, uh, get back to the others, they're probably almost done. After the river thing. Okay."

Shiro suddenly tenses, looking uncertain. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine! I just..." He waves a hand at Shiro. "Forgot."

"...Right." Shiro rubs the back of his head. "Sorry. I should've toned it down."

Lance knows perfectly well Shiro didn't even use all of his powers, and he still took down four class fours in under ten minutes, one-handed. "Nah, it's fine. Guess I needed the reminder."

Shiro hunches inward. "Okay."

"Relax, buddy. Seriously. It's fine, I still trust you." Lance pats his shoulder. "Do your water thing and let's get outta here."

"Okay," Shiro says again, and he steps back out.

And so, with the street much cleaner now than when they found it, they make their way back up the street. Lance is on edge, keeping an eye out for any more demons—or anyone that might've seen Shiro in action—but Shiro's pace is almost _bouncy._ Like that ten minutes of using his powers cheered him despite even all the baggage that must come with it.

Lance has never had to go long without using his powers, but if he tries to imagine it—it must feel like a good stretch after sitting still for too long. Maybe even more than that; he hasn’t noticed if Shiro’s been _uncomfortable_ from not using his powers because, frankly, he was uncomfortable anyway. They all are.

Which gives him an idea. Because either he can protect the city, or he can do exactly as the Association says—not both. And if he can trust Shiro to help—which isn’t as big a leap of faith as it was before—then at least he stands a chance of protecting the city, which, frankly, is more important to him than obedience.

Of course, he can't expect his team to go along with the idea, so he'll probably have to make it happen in secret. Hunk would probably agree to it, and Allura he might be able to bring around—hard to say when he barely knows her yet, but at least she never fought Champion personally. Chase would take some doing, but eventually, if enough people are in on it, he'll agree to it too.

Pidge is probably a lost cause, and he doesn't like keeping anything from her—not when she's been there practically since the beginning—but his choices are limited. If it means keeping secrets, so be it. He's got a city to save.

"Um," Shiro says suddenly. "While it's just us… I wanted to apologize."

Lance glances over at him. "For what?"

"Uh... flirting." Oh. Shiro rubs the back of his neck, eyes cast elsewhere—he's even blushing. "With you. I realize know how... incredibly awkward that must have been."

Damn right it was, and _so is this,_ dammit, couldn't he have just pretended it never happened?

"Yeah, it was... pretty awkward," Lance says, which has to be the understatement of the century. "If it makes you feel any better, even if you hadn't been Champion I probably wouldn't have gone for it." He pauses. "That probably doesn't make you feel better, does it? I worded that badly. I just mean that there are reasons I'm not interested in you that have nothing to do with who you are or what you've done. It's a personal thing." He takes a deep breath and lets it out in a whoosh. "And if we can forget we ever had this conversation, that would be great, thanks."

Shiro just looks confused, though. "You're straight?"

"No! I mean—well, yeah, no, I'm pan, but that's irrelevant. It's not that. It's one of _those_ things, you know." He does jazz hands. "Trauma!"

"I... remind you of someone. I'm so sorry," Shiro says quickly, lifting his hand. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up. I didn't know. Sorry."

"You're—no, you're nothing like him, it's not—oh god, it's not _that_ kind of trauma! You couldn't have known—" Now Lance is stumbling over his words too. "Well, I guess you probably could, you just wouldn't have known it was me—you know what, if I dig myself any further in this hole I'll have to actually tell you about it, and I'd rather not."

"I understand, sorry." Shiro's doing that shrinking thing again, which means he definitely thinks it's something to do with him or something he did wrong, which means he definitely doesn't understand. Lance sighs.

Shit, he knows everything _Shiro's_ done, why not even the playing field—if it'll build trust between them, maybe it's worth telling.

And, it's a cruel thought and Lance feels bad for thinking it, but if Shiro tells anyone else on the team they won't believe him, not if Lance disputes it. Except Allura, but she's new—the rest won't believe her, either. As if Shiro would tell anyone at all with everything _he's_ done hanging over his head.

So Lance swallows back the ice in chest and takes a deep breath.

"I killed my boyfriend, Shiro," he says, and Shiro stops in his tracks.

"You—what?"

"The Association, back before the Crisis—they did this thing sometimes where they used vigilantes to take down other vigilantes. Before they made them register, so they couldn't be held liable if things got messy. They sent me after my own boyfriend." Lance’s shoulder throbs just thinking about it; he jams his hands into his pockets self-consciously. Isn't admitting things supposed to make you feel lighter? It seems to him like the weight on his chest is only growing. "We didn't realize what was happening in time. So I ended up killing him. That's why."

Shiro's eyes search his face. Lance maintains unwavering eye contact.

"You killed your boyfriend," he repeats faintly. Lance lets out a slightly hysterical giggle.

"Sure did! And now I'm basically uninterested in romance, forever. It's moot, anyway."

"You've flirted with Nyma..." Shiro's voice trails off.

"That's just flirting, it doesn't _go_ anywhere." Lance shrugs sharply. "But yeah, it was up in Rochester at the beginning of the Crisis, so you probably heard about it at the time. I think it made the news. I wasn't paying much attention."

Shiro frowns at him for a moment, but then his eyes widen.

"Permafrost," he whispers. Lance's heart fucking freezes.

"Yeah," he says, looking away down the street. "Yeah, that was me."

"And... Torch..."

"Was the love of my goddamn life. My one and only. And I fucking killed him—I—" He stops and takes a deep breath. "Yeah."

"I'm so sorry," Shiro says softly.

Lance sighs. "Thanks," he says, and takes another moment to gather himself before he forces himself to look back at Shiro. "Hey. Question for you."

"Yes?" Something has settled in Shiro's face now, some sort of calm that wasn't there before.

"The Association doesn't actually care who lives or dies. They just want to be in control, and I don't know about you, but I'm not super interested in listening to them right now." He rocks back on his heels. "So, you wanna help us save the city?"

Shiro is so taken aback he actually takes a step backwards. "I... really? But... the team..."

"Will come around eventually, especially if you prove you're willing to help. And, y'know... well, it won't change everyone's minds about you. But there might be some people out there who'll see you save a city, and maybe forgive you for destroying one. Not many, but... some."

Shiro rubs his neck. "You might be right about that. I don't think _I_ can ever forgive myself, though."

Lance shrugs. He knows that feeling. "Time will tell."

"Well, I don’t want to get further on the Association's bad side," Shiro says slowly, "but... it's the right thing to do. I guess I can't really interact with the civilians anymore, though..."

"No, but you just took down a bunch of class fours all on your own, so I'm pretty sure we can find some use for you." Lance grins and nudges him. "How about it?"

"Yes," Shiro says, sounding a little breathless. "Yes, of course."

"Awesome." Lance finally starts walking again. "I mean, this is going to be a logistical nightmare—because we probably _don't_ want everyone knowing you're helping, at least not yet. Gonna be hard to adjust to Choir Delta not being here, too. We'll figure it out, though."

Shiro nods along. "Okay."

"Just sit tight for now. I'm gonna get Hunk in on it first, we'll work on the rest later."

"Hunk... may have suggested a similar plan already."

"Even better—I'm gonna have to talk to him about that, obviously, but yes, that makes this easier. Okay." Lance shakes himself out, _completely_ ready to leave the better part of that conversation behind. "Let's check on the others."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, if you havent read young blood, thisd be a good time. this chapter thoroughly spoils it, after all... :D


	9. they're dying to stop you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [run boy run - woodkid](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ppmMUTIoleo)

The first hero to show up to reclaim her power is Mirage, just a few days later. Lance, frankly, hadn't expected a single person to show up, not when it means jumping back into the Association's arms—not to mention coming to the hellhole that Boston has become—but perhaps it's not so surprising when he actually sees her face to face. She's thin to the point of sickness, haggard—he remembers her being skinny, but not like this.

It's a shock, a punch to the gut, to realize that for her, the Association might be a _lifeline,_ not a prison. She certainly doesn't hesitate to march right up to where Shiro is sitting in the headquarters lobby and hold out her hand. And Shiro doesn't do more than blink at her in surprise before recognition dawns and he takes the offered hand.

A heartbeat passes, then two, and she lets go and slaps him full across the face. He recoils, hand over his cheek, but doesn't retaliate.

"...Thanks," she mutters, and turns and walks right back out. There's an Association car waiting for her.

Chase whistles lowly. "That was Mirage?"

"Yeah," says Lance, as Shiro slowly drops his hand. His cheek is faintly red.

"Goodness. I'd have invited her to stay for lunch," says Coran from the front desk.

"I don't think she would've accepted." It's gonna be hard enough for supers to come back and face Shiro, let alone linger in his presence. And now she'll have to relearn how to be a hero after more than a year away—they all will.

Chase shrugs and leaves the room. Allura, who had been leaning silently against the desk, watching, now turns to Shiro.

"I have a question for you, Shiro," she says, neutrally. He looks up.

"Yes?"

"Cosmo's was the first power you took. Why?"

Right—she knew him personally before the Crisis even began. Maybe she's a lost cause too, Lance realizes with dismay. He edges around the desk, ready to hop in to mediate if need be.

Shiro hunches inward. "It was... did you know he liked to teleport into dark alleys and startle civilians?"

Allura frowns. "Yes, and I disapproved, but if I recall correctly, it made him rather popular. People liked the idea that they might meet him by chance."

Shiro nods. "He did that to me. I didn't even know yet that I had a power, let alone what it was; I'm not sure I even knew I'd used it until later. I definitely didn't realize what had happened until afterwards."

Allura raises her eyebrows. "So it was an accident?"

"Yeah... I should've turned myself in," Shiro says, rubbing his neck. "Would've saved us all a lot of trouble, in hindsight. Guess I thought I could fly under the radar somehow anyway."

Lance opens his mouth to say he knows the feeling—and then, considering present company, decides against it.

"It certainly would have," Allura says, but her frown is more thoughtful than angry. "Cosmo described the event quite differently."

Shiro slumps. "I know. I saw the interviews."

"He did have a flair for dramatics," she adds slowly, and Shiro looks up in surprise. "I don't know if I believe you, but I _can_ believe that he might have exaggerated the incident."

"Thanks?"

Allura fixes him with a stern look. "That doesn't mean I've forgiven you for what you did to Rochester."

"I wouldn't expect you to," Shiro says quietly.

Well, Lance will still count it as progress. He'll have to tell Hunk about it later, if Shiro doesn't first.

"Speaking of Rochester," Allura says then, and looks to Lance. Shiro raises his eyebrows—Allura glances at him, blinks in surprise. Lance wants to throw back his head and groan, but instead he just raises his eyebrows, too.

"Pardon?" he says innocently.

"Does he know?" she asks, nodding to Shiro, with the air that this wasn’t what she’d originally intended to ask.

"I know," Shiro confirms, the damn traitor.

" _I_ don't know what _either_ of you are talking about," Lance says breezily. "I'm gonna go check in with the scouts." And he walks out the front door. Probably not his most subtle escape, but Allura really needs to take a hint already.

He also probably shouldn't leave the two of them alone together—plus Coran, does Coran know?—but whatever.

He knows where there ought to be at least a couple of scouts, so he heads in that direction; might as well _actually_ check on them, excuses aside. Pidge finds him first, though.

"Why are you out alone?" she asks, landing with a thump beside him.

"No reason in particular," he says. "Thought I'd see how the scouts are doing. I'm being careful, I promise."

She shoves at him with one wing but soon falls into step with him. "There's something I've been meaning to ask," she says.

"Shoot."

"Why haven't you flirted with Allura?" Pidge fluffs her wings and folds them away, tone casual. "She's pretty enough, and you flirted with Nyma and Polly at first too, so it's not like team dynamics have ever stopped you."

Ah, shit. "Oh. Uh." Lance rubs his neck. "She kinda... reminds me of someone." Which, technically, is not a lie, if definitely misleading.

"Oh," Pidge says. "Fair enough. Just wanted to get that out of the way while I have you alone—"

"Thanks for that." He relaxes a little.

"—Before I get to serious stuff."

So much for getting his pulse under control. He glances over at her. "Oh?"

"I was just checking on the scouts, too," she says. "And then I checked in with Windy."

"She say anything interesting?"

"She said the Association is prepared to call her and all of Choir Delta a rogue team, declare them villains, and send another team after them if they don't get their asses to New York ASAP."

Lance stops. "Shit."

"Yeah," says Pidge. "I guess it wasn't a mistake after all, huh?”

Not that either of them ever thought it was.

"Yeah," Lance sighs. "But we've made enough progress getting civilians out, I think we'll be able to hold out until we finish, at least."

"And then?" Pidge says pointedly.

Lance shrugs. "And then we try not to die? Fuck, I dunno. I wonder if they're gonna quarantine the city."

"And then we'd be a free wing like CD."

"Yeah." Lance makes an attempt to chuckle. "I'll have to start hiding this pretty face beneath a mask, but I think I can make it work."

As expected, the joke falls flat. "Ice. What're we gonna do?"

He sighs. "Whatever we have to," he says heavily. "The safety of civilians is our top priority; until the Association gives us some other fucking impossibility, that's our aim."

"Whatever we have to, huh," she says dully. "Just... don't be an idiot about it, captain."

"You know me," he responds. "King of good ideas."

"Hm." She hums disbelievingly—thanks Pidge—but doesn't press the issue. She's probably thinking about Shiro. Seems that's all they think about these days: Shiro and demons. Demons and Shiro.

He sighs. "Guess I'll go kick Windy out, then. We're gonna have to move back into that building, though, Shiro and all."

He can almost hear Pidge's grimace, though he doesn't glance over to confirm. "The hunters are there, they can protect the remaining civilians."

"And if they can't, we can't get there in time. Besides, that location has a much better position relative to our spawn points. It makes strategic sense to move there, as much as I love sleeping in a real bed again."

"And what do we do about Shiro?"

"Same as we've been doing these past few days. It's worked so far." And Shiro's been going out at night on his own to kill demons in the dark, while ostensibly being “watched” by either Lance or Hunk, and it's been a huge help, but Pidge doesn't need to know that.

"And the civilians?" she asks pointedly. "If they see him, there'll be a panic."

"Then you should help Hunk finish his replacement prosthetic," he says, just as pointed. "They won't notice the difference. He's already been there and they already know, so as long as they think he's still restrained, it's fine."

Pidge is quiet a moment; when he looks over, she's frowning deeply.

"Fine, I'll help with the arm," she says. "But I don't like this."

"It's a shit situation, Pidge, you don't have to like it. It's just all we've got."

She grumbles something unintelligible in response, then nods ahead.

"There's a couple of class ones between us and Windy," she says. "Wanna take 'em out?"

Lance cracks his knuckles, stretches his neck. "Sure do." It's been a while since he could let loose. Too many people in the way, too much to pay attention to. This'll be a nice change; just him, Pidge, and some hapless class ones that have no idea what's coming.

And then a few streets down they find an Association van, and further past it, Mirage. She's standing at the corner, pressed against the side of a building, while out of sight come the squeals and shrieks of class ones on the attack. Whoever's in the car doesn't seem too concerned about it, since they're just sitting at the wheel, watching.

Lance and Pidge exchange a look, and hurry to join Mirage.

“The hell is this?” she’s muttering. “He knows I can’t fight, the fuck, it ain’t been _that_ long—they know my power, tol’ me I could get it back…”

"Mirage?" says Lance. She turns to look at them.

"Thank fuck," she says. "I can't take out these fuckin' demons myself, y'know? Ain't stoppin' that Association rep." She nods to the car.

"We can help," says Pidge. "What are you doing still around here? I thought you'd left."

Mirage snorts. “On our way to git Windrunner and company, I guess. Found this lot on the way.” She nods to the corner. “Then that dick goes ‘n’ tells me to fight ‘em? I do fuckin’ illusions! I’m takin’ this up with the Association when I git back, fer sure. I’m gettin’ him fired.”

Lance and Pidge exchange another look.

“Good luck,” Pidge says. “God knows they’ve had no problem throwing us to the wolves. Ice, I’m gonna take them from above.”

“Yeah, I’ll freeze them.” He waves her off and she takes flight; Mirage squints at him.

“Threw ya to the wolves?” she asks.

“It’s a long story,” he says. “Usual Association bullshit. Can you get their attention in the other direction?"

“...Yeah,” Mirage says, though she still looks dubious. She closes her eyes; Lance gives her a moment before he peers around the corner. The demons are facing the other way towards Mirage's illusions, so he kneels and places a hand on the sidewalk, and in moments ice shoots out and crawls up their legs. The demons squeal.

And now, with stationary targets, Pidge swoops down and kicks at them, neatly slicing them apart. Done and done.

"Thanks," Mirage mutters, and her illusions vanish. "Glad that's over with. What kinda bullshit were you talkin’ about?”

Lance stares at her—and then it hits him that, maybe, she’s never _been_ on the receiving end. The Association’s been after _him_ since before the Crisis, but some supers registered willingly. Some always did what they were told. And… they weren’t always this bad, he knows that, even if he sort of forgot.

“I guess they’ve changed since you lost your powers,” Lance says finally. “Maybe it’s the demons.”

“Huh.” She still looks like she doesn’t quite believe him, but when Pidge joins them she just nods over to the van. “You guys want a ride?"

So they all climb into the van—the driver silently nods to them, making no indication that he was even paying attention to the battle—and watch the empty city go by as they head the rest of the short way to the refugee camp-cum-headquarters 2.0. Mirage stays in the van when they arrive, but Lance and Pidge hop out and trudge inside.

"If you're looking for Windrunner, she's out on a mission with the rest of Choir Delta," a scout helpfully supplies. "Only a couple of class twos, so they should be back soon."

"Thanks," says Lance, idly looking around the dusty, cluttered lobby. Yeah, not looking forward to living here again. He turns to Pidge.

"I guess you should fly back and tell everyone to pack up and come over," he says. "If they're gonna leave now there's no point in delaying our return here."

"Yeah there is," says Pidge with a pout. "I don't want to."

"Well, me neither, but we gotta keep the civilians safe. Looks like the hunters are out right now too, and the scouts can only hold the fort for so long."

Pidge sighs. "Normally I'd object, but demons are popping up faster than they can find them. Case in point, the ones we fought with Mirage."

"Exactly."

"And what about Shiro? I don't think Hunk can finish his arm today even with my help."

"Sneak him in. Or one of us can go stay there with him until it's done, I don't care. See if the others have any ideas."

Pidge sighs again. "Fine. I'll go tell them," she says, and heads out. Lance hops up onto the front desk to wait.

* * *

His team shows up before Windrunner and hers do—with Shiro wearing a jacket with a stuffed sleeve and a glove dangling from the end of it, which looks pretty dumb up close but Lance supposes it works from a distance—so half the team lingers in the lobby to wait. Lance and Hunk escort Shiro upstairs to the floor the hunters have taken over so he can get his things to move downstairs with them; by the time they get back to the lobby, Choir Delta is just walking in the front door.

"Saw the van," Windy says by way of greeting, nodding back to the door behind her. "Guess I'm going now."

"Yeah," says Lance. "Sorry to see you go, man, but I guess it can't be helped." They clasp hands a moment.

"Good luck," she says. "Seriously. You'll need it."

Lance can't resist a glance over at Duke Fortune at that. "Would it be rude of me to say that it seems like luck has failed us?"

Duke Fortune shrugs apologetically. "Either my powers don't work at this large a scale, or this is somehow a blessing in disguise. Only time will tell."

Lance sighs. "Alright, well. Take care of yourselves."

"You too," says Windrunner. She and her team grab their things, and then they leave, and Lance has never been sorrier to see them go.

He's losing Choir Delta just to gain Champion. He lost Polly just to gain Allura.

He lost Keith just to become a hero.

Really, the universe better trade him something extra good sometime soon to make up for this shit.

He snorts to himself. Yeah, that's never gonna happen; this is just how life is. For him, and for all supers in the hands of the Association. They don't get lucky breaks, just the calm in the eye of the storm, now and then.

He heads back into the building for a nap.

* * *

Rawhide is the next hero to reclaim his power, then Frostbite. Both are just as cursory about it as Mirage was, though neither are in quite the condition she was in. There's a little pit of dread in Lance's stomach each time, though, as he wonders how each return will affect Shiro's ability to fight the demons they're struggling to keep at bay; Shiro doesn't seem too concerned, though. He has plenty of other powers, Lance supposes; their secret weapon isn't compromised, not yet. And he's finally got two arms again, so that's something.

And when Quicksilver comes late at night for her power and has to wait for Shiro to return from a demon-killing outing—it's a blessing the rest of the team isn't awake to question it—Lance's dread only grows. But she doesn't comment on it when he brings Shiro to her and instead of being groggy with sleep he's sweaty with exertion, so Lance thinks maybe they're safe. And after a few days, when nothing has happened and Shiro is still going out alone at night to murder demons—and hey, even if he _does_ turn on them at least for now there are less demons to deal with—Lance begins to relax.

Then Coran gets a call.

Lance isn't there for it—he's in the office building, just returned from more demon-killing—but when Coran shows up in person instead of sending a scout as a messenger, he knows it's serious. He goes to meet him at the door and pulls him back outside so they can talk without half a dozen people hearing.

"What's up?" he asks.

"I have grave news," Coran informs him. "They're pulling Chase."

Aw, fuck. Shit. Not _Chase._

"They're _what?_ "

"Pulling Chase," Coran repeats. "They'll be sending Phoenix in his place. I asked, but they wouldn't tell me why." He puts a hand on Lance's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Ice."

Isolation, Lance thinks. They're still punishing him, after all this time—playing the long game. Giving him a team to care for and then slowly taking them away, one by one, leaving him alone. And sending him some guy with fire powers in exchange has to be deliberate: it's salt in the wound, an extra twist in the knife they keep in his side.

Part of him still thinks he deserves it, the little corner of his brain that presses on bruises and pushes him past his limits for no reason, that still places Keith in the background of his dreams—just a glimpse, here and there, always too far away. But the rest of him is demanding: _hasn't he atoned by now?_

"Thanks for telling me, Coran," he says quietly.

"I'm... afraid there's more," Coran says gently, a soft punch to the gut. "A scout came from New York."

Lance looks up. "From Windy?"

Coran nods. "I think you ought to hear what she has to say for yourself."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	10. time to think of someone else, besides myself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [back to life - rock kills kid](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fwzHN76n9s8)
> 
> wow guys sorry its been a while, i was moving and one of my artists was moving and i had a bunch of deadlines and etc etc its here now. and art may be added later. maybe. well see.
> 
> anyway, without further ado, the moment youve all been waiting for...

The scout is waiting in the headquarters lobby when they arrive, looking almost as tired and haggard as Mirage was. Her legs are coated in dried mud up to the knee and there are bits of leaves on her clothes and in her hair; he's struck with the sense that she _walked_ here, which means that it's probably been days since Windy sent her.

It also probably means she didn't want the Association knowing whatever message it is that this scout carries.

"Are you... okay?" Lance asks first off.

"I'll be fine," she says. "The Association can't hear us here, right?"

"Right," Lance confirms, sitting down on the bench next to her. "What's up?"

The scout takes a deep breath. "Choir Delta was sent to subdue a mutiny," she says. "Windrunner said it was the same as she was threatened with here."

Lance's blood runs cold. "You're kidding."

She shakes her head. "I saw it myself. It was Knights Chi; the Association had been after them for months to abandon Syracuse, but there were too many people who couldn't leave. There was nowhere for them to go. So they stayed, so KC stayed too, and..." Her voice trails off.

This is a warning, Lance realizes. Windy must have seen it as clearly as he can; the Association is going to pull them out of Boston before they're ready, and when they stick around to see the evacuation through, the Association will label them traitors.

The question is, why? Why abandon so many innocents and turn on their own?

The other question is, why haven't they tried to pull out AT yet? They've punished them, sure, but they're almost done with evacuation now. What are they waiting for?

Or is their goal to goad them into using Shiro—back them into a corner only he can get them out of and label them villains that way? In which case their plan is already working. But again—why?

Lance throws back his head and groans, covering his face with his hands. " _Fuck_."

"What is Windrunner going to do?" Coran asks.

"They were in a standoff when I left," the scout says. "But she's under pressure from the Association; if she hasn't given in and attacked, Choir Delta will have been labeled villains by now too."

"Nng." Lance rubs his face. "I don't suppose she knew _why_ everything was going to shit."

"If she did, she didn't tell me." The scout shrugs tiredly.

"Well." He supposes there's not really anything he can do about this, not right now. "Thanks for telling me. Coran, feed her? Get her access to a shower or something. Hey, what's your power?"

"Going unnoticed," says the scout. "That's why she sent me. And thanks."

"Yeah, no problem. We're gonna have to send you back, I think. Unless your power works in your absence?"

"Not as far as I know." She grimaces.

"Then, yeah, I don't think the Association wants us knowing this. Good luck. Tell Windy she's doing the right thing."

The scout blinks at him. "But you don't know what she chose?"

Well, he does. Windy might push the boundaries now and then, but ultimately, she won’t go against what the Association tells her. If she sent this warning, it’s because she doesn’t want to do to Authority Tau what she’s doing to Knights Chi now—a warning that if she has to, she will.

But he doesn’t want to explain this to the scout, to make this conversation grimmer than it already is, so he sighs. "She'll need to hear it either way," he says, and heads back out. He needs to tell the team about this... and Chase's impending departure. Shit.

"Some good news would be great about right now," he mutters upward, like a prayer. He doubts there's anyone listening, though.

* * *

"Which of us do you suppose is next?" Pidge mutters flatly, standing in the doorway with Lance as they watch Chase get in the Association van. Phoenix is due to arrive the next morning, but apparently the Association couldn't wait that long to rip their team further apart. The rest of them are inside, subdued; morale has never been lower.

"I'm team leader," Lance says distantly. "So it'll be you."

Chase closes the van door. He doesn't look back at them, but through the window Lance can see him rubbing his eye as the van pulls away.

"I don't wanna go," Pidge says.

"I don't want you to go, either."

She leans into his side, and he rubs her shoulder, and they linger there even after the van is long since out of sight.

* * *

It's just Lance's luck, really, that they're called out early that morning to fight some demons. It means that everyone is awake when Phoenix is due to arrive—even the hunters are hanging around in the lobby. He's fully expecting to get emotional over this; he’s sleep-deprived and exhausted in every way besides, and the guy has fire powers, so really he'll be lucky to _not_ break down in front of everyone, let alone stay calm and collected. Leadership is super fucking overrated.

So he paces in front of the desk where Pidge and Hunk are chatting, when all he wants to do is crawl back into bed and sleep for a decade. There's no real reason to be nervous about this, he tells himself. People come and go. This Phoenix guy will be useful, probably, and if he's lucky—haha, yeah right—he'll be completely different than Keith, and Lance won't have to remember every time he sees him. And Chase will be fine, wherever they send him; Polly's on a civilian rotation so she's fine too. He's not really losing anyone here.

So when a scout shouts across the lobby, "He's here!" Lance takes a deep breath and wills himself to calm. Whatever his own issues are, the newest member of their team deserves a proper welcome. The door opens, and Lance turns to face Phoenix.

* * *

There are moments, Lance knows, that can change your life in less than a heartbeat. Moments that challenge everything you thought you knew, that flip your entire worldview in the blink of an eye. Lance has had a few, now. Ice in his hands and a shimmer in the sky; a letter in his college mailbox; his former nemesis shaking his hand with a smile.

This is, undoubtedly, one of those moments.

* * *

"Oh," he— _he_ —says, quiet, but audible even across the room despite the bustle and murmurs; he's frozen halfway through the door, staring. "It's you."

Lance can't speak, can't move. He can't even goddamn breathe.

"Ice?" Pidge says beside him. "You're shaking."

"Oh," breathes Allura.

" _Oh_ ," Shiro echoes.

"What's going on?" asks Hunk.

Lance opens his mouth but no sound comes out. There's nothing he can possibly say. Because it's been a couple years, but a change of costume and a one-quarter mask was never enough to hide the form Lance once knew intimately well, the same lean strength he loved and fought and lost forever.

"I killed you," is the first thing Lance can manage to say, soft and disbelieving.

Because _Keith_ is here. Keith is _alive._

Hunk whispers a stunned _what_ before there's a rustle and murmur.

"Give them space," Shiro says.

"Agreed," says Allura, before raising her voice. "Everyone clear the lobby, please!"

"What the fuck is happening—"

"Pidge, come on."

Lance is only vaguely aware, in his peripheral vision, of all the hunters and scouts and his teammates leaving the lobby. His eyes are fixed on Keith, who's gone pale, but not as much as he was that day in the snow—not as much as the last time Lance saw him. His stare is the same though, blank and unmoving, until it flickers down and away.

He's alive. Impossibly, he's alive.

"Are you..." Keith's voice trails out with the rest of the lobby's population. There's that wrinkle in his brow that he gets when he's worried—just visible above the mask.

"I'm sorry," Lance finally manages to choke out. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I—" His throat closes and he mouths the rest voicelessly. Keith's shoulders slump, some unnameable tension leaving his body, but not all—not completely.

"Lance," he says, and it's been so goddamn long since Lance heard his own name.

And then, before either of them can speak further, a scout bursts in, knocking into Keith and throwing the doors open wide.

"A villain!" she shouts. "Ice—there's a _villain_ downtown."

Lance, already completely overwhelmed, doesn't even register her words at first. Her expression slides from urgency to confusion as she takes in the empty lobby, the new super in the doorway beside her—only _then_ does it click.

"What the fuck," he says, and turns. "Guys! AUTHORITY TAU, GET BACK OUT HERE!"

They all stumble through the door immediately, the three of them plus Shiro, like they'd been crammed against it already. They hurry to join him, trailed by a number of curious hunters.

"There's a villain," he says, and they all stare at him blankly—which is a fair reaction, even setting aside current circumstances.

"He's downtown," the scout adds. "He said he'd wait for you..."

"He _talked_ to you?" Keith asks before Lance can. The scout nods.

"He told me he was a villain, and he wants to fight this team," she says. "He didn't say why."

"That's... really fucking weird." Lance drags a hand down his face—of all the stupid fucking things... "Guess we gotta go check it out."

"Downtown is empty," says Pidge. "If he's not threatening anyone, why bother?"

"Because he sounds like an absolute nutcase and if he's determined to fight us I'd rather get it over with now, before he finds someone to threaten." Lance's voice sounds distant to his own ears; god, he's in no mental state for this right now. He can't think of anyone in particular he or his team might have pissed off and he doesn't really have the brainpower to worry about it right now. _Why_ is not important—just get it over with so he can have his mental breakdown in peace.

"Are you okay?" Hunk asks quietly.

"Nope!" Lance responds cheerfully. "Let's go." He gestures to the scout. "Lead the way."

"Are you _sure_ about this?" Pidge asks, also quiet.

"Nope!" Lance says again. "And once we get there, you're in charge, because I'm definitely losing it." And he strides out the door, right past Keith, torn between staring at him and pretending he doesn't exist, because he can't _handle_ this, he can't even begin to process the situation and fuck if he's gonna try right now. Fight the villain, save the city, deal with personal issues and/or dead boyfriends later.

"I'm not sure this is a good idea," Shiro says behind him.

"I hate to agree with you but... me neither," says Pidge.

"Aren't you Champion?" Keith asks. Just the sound of his voice sends an electric shock through Lance's veins. He hurries on and doesn't look back.

"...I was," says Shiro.

"It's a long story," says Hunk. "Uh, nice to meet you? Phoenix, right?"

"Oh," says Keith, and he doesn't sound nearly as out of it as Lance feels, but not quite all there, either. "Yeah. Hi."

"Hi. I'm Bunker, but everyone calls me Hunk."

"Oh."

"You can call him Shiro. And that's Pidge—Pigeon, and Allura, and... I guess you already know Icicle."

"...Yeah." Keith's voice cracks a little and he clears his throat. Lance fixes his eyes on the ground and walks faster; the scout hurries to get ahead of him again, leading the way down the street.

"Welcome to Authority Tau," Pidge says, and sighs. "I'd say this is an unusual first day experience, but I guess it would be anyway."

"Yeah," Keith says again.

"For the record, though, we're always a disaster. Just to warn you."

"That figures," he says, voice suddenly low, but the Association can't be after him like they're after Lance, they brought him back so he must have been the one they really wanted like Lance always thought—the scout stops and Lance all but walks into her, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"There he is," she says, and gets out of the way.

The villain is just some guy, standing in the middle of some city square, which really pisses Lance off, honestly. He's got silver-blonde hair up in a goddamn manbun, for fuck's sake. His costume looks more like a wetsuit than anything else.

"What the shit is this," Lance mutters.

"Authority Tau!" the guy shouts. "Greetings!"

"What the—" Lance is cut off by Pidge's hand.

"Who are you?" she calls.

The guy straight up _bows._ "You may call me Chronophobia."

"And what do you want?"

He spread his hands. "What does any villain want?"

Lance rolls his eyes. He's pretty sure the rest of his team does too.

"Wow, you must be new," Pidge says flatly. "Villains want a lot of different things, dude, you're gonna have to be more specific."

"Well. I want a lot of different things, too. Shall I list them—alphabetical, or by priority?" Chronophobia smiles.

"Oh my _god_ stop wasting our time," Pidge says. "Look, either you're out here to hurt people, in which case we have to stop you, or you're here to fuck around in the ruins and avoid the Association, in which case, godspeed. Just fucking _pick_ one so we can get on with it."

"I see," he says, voice suddenly less friendly. "I see no reason to share my goals with you, frankly, but it is clear to me that we stand in opposition. Shall we begin?"

"What a douchebag," Pidge mutters. "Fine! Let's fight or whatever." She turns to the team, finally dropping her hand from Lance's face. "Uh, I'll attack from above, Allura's on healing. Hunk, keep him contained. Ice, you're a liability right now—sorry—so just stick with Hunk for now. Phoenix, I don't know the details of your powers, but you're touch range, right? So you're gonna have to go in—just don't block him off, Hunk."

"Roger that?" says Hunk nervously.

"What about me?" says Shiro.

"Stand behind Hunk and don't move," she says, fixing him with a sharp look.

"...Alright."

"Do we _have_ to do this?" Lance whines. The guy's just standing there, waiting, the creep, and Lance has better things to do.

"This was _your_ idea," Pidge retorts. "Just sit it out. I don’t know this guy's powers but he looks like a pushover. Let's go." She takes flight.

The rest of the team looks to Lance, who shrugs.

"Do what she said," he offers.

"If you're sure," says Hunk.

"For the sake of argument? I'm sure." And Lance promptly ignores his own advice and puts a hand to the ground in preparation. The guy is looking at him and he’s not about to just stand here and wait. But he doesn't wanna telegraph his attacks _that_ much; better to wait till he's distracted.

"What's he doing?" he hears Keith mutter to the group before they disperse—fuck, he knows Lance used to do icicles. Of course he knows, that's how he fucking died. Lance hangs his head; shit, he really killed him, but now he's here, and they're on the same team, and they have to fight _together..._

"Ice!" Shiro shouts, and Lance lurches sideways. A thin blade darts through the air where he just was—this guy has a _sword?_ Seriously? How typical.

"Sure, okay," he mutters aloud. "That's cool. Fine. En garde, fucker." He gives himself a shield of ice as he scrambles to his feet. "Come at me, weirdo."

"Is that any way to speak to your nemesis?" Chronophobia asks casually, even as his blade strikes Lance's shield heavily and sends ice chips flying. Well, he's physically strong, Lance'll grant him that.

"Sorry, dude, nemesis position is taken. You have a long way to go to be as much of a pain in the ass as Champion was."

Chronophobia frowns. "Do not underestimate me."

What an absolute crackpot.

Lance manages to hold his own a few more moments—he's picked things up over his career, okay, villains fucking love swords—before a wall erupts between them. Lance stumbles back, panting, as Chronophobia disappears from view. He lets his shield melt away.

And then he blinks and Chronophobia is suddenly between him and the wall.

"Do not underestimate me," he repeats, and this time he's grinning. He lifts his sword again and Lance doesn't have time to more than coat his own lifted arm in ice before the sword strikes it.

And then there's a blur of light and heat and Chronophobia is no longer in front of him, but on the ground, tackled by a person-shaped flame. In the next instant, Chronophobia vanishes, and the flame extinguishes to reveal Keith, getting back to his feet.

"What the fuck," he mutters.

"Over here!" Chronophobia calls, and they turn to look—he's all the way across the square now. He's immediately dive-bombed by Pidge, but the second before she hits he vanishes, causing her to flap wildly to avoid crashing.

"Do you really think you can hit _me?_ "

Lance spins; Chronophobia is behind him now. He immediately kneels and slaps a hand to the ground, shooting ice along the pavement toward him, but in the same instant Keith charges—and skids across the ice, only narrowly dodging Chronophobia's sword, fuck. He falls hard on his ass and rolls out of reach.

"Watch it!" he shouts back to Lance. "Are you trying to finish the job, or what!?"

Lance, unexpectedly even to himself, bursts into tears.

"Aw, fuck," says Keith, scrambling up. "No, don't—I didn't mean that."

"Have I come at a bad time?" Chronophobia asks smugly. Alright, fuck, this isn't going as well as Lance has hoped, and now he can't stop crying. He staggers to his feet with blurry vision.

"Then again, time has always been good to me," Chronophobia adds. He's standing a little ways away still—he's toying with them, isn't he. He could just teleport in and stab any of them if he wanted.

Keith is just standing there too, though, unmoving; when Lance blinks away the tears enough to see him clearly, he finds him reaching towards him, frozen unnaturally in place, unblinking, like a statue.

Only then does Lance notice it's gone completely quiet. No wind, nothing from his team, no sound at all but his gasping and Chronophobia's footsteps as he approaches Keith from behind. He looks around; the rest of the team is frozen too, Pidge hanging in midair with wings mid-flap.

It's just him and Chronophobia, in a bubble of time separate from the rest. _Chrono_ phobia. He's not teleporting, he's _stopping time,_ and they are desperately outmatched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> am i still cackling over the song i chose for this chap? yes :D


	11. my love, we can never go back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [fake it - bastille](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9YPNuFqfDsE)

"Do you understand now?" Chronophobia asks. He stops just behind Keith and puts a hand on his back, and Lance heart stops cold. He starts running, swallowing the sobs that still threaten in his chest. "You can't win."

"Fucking watch us," Lance mutters, and Chronophobia _shoves_ and steps away. Keith doesn't move at all in reaction—until Lance is almost there and time suddenly resumes. Keith lurches forward as Lance scrambles to stop, and they collide, toppling over backwards. Lance's head hits the pavement hard.

"Are you okay!?" Keith says above him.

"Fuck no," Lance groans. Stars dance in his vision and he's an emotional wreck anyway. He shouldn't have fucking gotten out of bed today.

A weight leaves his chest and Keith hauls him upwards, but he's only vaguely aware of what direction is up and it's hard to stay steady. His vision wavers; he's knocked into something firm.

"Take care of him," Keith says somewhere nearby, and then Lance is being pulled backwards, away. He makes a garbled noise of protest.

"Let Allura take a look at you," says Shiro.

"I gotta—" Lance isn't sure what he's gotta do, actually. A pair of hands cup his face, and moments later Allura's face swims into view.

"Better?" she asks.

"Allura," he says. "We gotta get the fuck out of here, he can stop time."

"Is that what it is?" Shiro says. He's still holding Lance up; Lance shrugs him off, looks to where Pidge and Keith are ineffectually harassing Chronophobia.

"Yeah, we're fucked," says Lance.

"What if he goes after civilians?" Hunk asks. He pushes a wall up in front of Chronophobia and in the blink of an eye he's on the other side.

"He could walk into the building, murder them all, and leave again, and we wouldn't even know," Lance points out. "They're fucked, we're fucked, he's invincible and there's nothing we can do."

"Since when do you give up?" Shiro demands, gripping his arm. "You took _me_ down, didn't you?"

"Shiro," Lance says. "You look me in the eye and tell me you weren't the one that gave up. You tell me you couldn't have escaped, back then, or turned around and defeated us. Tell me."

There's a brief, tense pause. Shiro meets his eyes, then looks away.

"You're right," Shiro admits. "I gave up. But that doesn't mean this guy is undefeatable."

"Then how, exactly, do you suggest we defeat him?" Allura says sharply.

"Well, if you guys figure something out, lemme know," Lance says. "I'm gonna go make sure he doesn't murder the rest of the team." And he jogs back to the fight.

"About time," Pidge hisses above him as he passes beneath her. Keith dodges out of the way of Chronophobia's sword, closer to Lance.

"Ke—Phoenix," Lance says, and makes a sword out of ice. He offers it when Keith turns, letting Chronophobia's focus shift to Pidge. "Don't melt it."

"This is new."

"You set your entire self on fire."

"Fair. Thanks." Keith takes the sword, and Lance realizes with a lurch of his stomach that beneath his fingerless gloves the two smaller fingers of his right hand are mostly gone.

 _The frostbite,_ he remembers. _I did that._

He feels nauseous as he watches Keith face Chronophobia again; it doesn't seem to affect his grip that much, or he knows how to compensate, because he looks to be just as skilled with a sword as Lance remembers. But that doesn't mean it didn't happen, that Lance didn't hurt him permanently.

Then again, he ruined Lance's arm in turn, so maybe they're even on that count. It doesn't make him feel any better.

"Pay attention!" Pidge shouts at him then, and he starts. Right, they're in the middle of a battle.

He starts to circle around the fight, eyes fixed on their movements. He's not keen on tossing icicles into the fray—he doesn't think he could survive hitting Keith at this point, even by accident—and he doesn't want to fuck up Keith's footing again either. That doesn't leave him a lot of options.

Their only chance, as far as he can tell, is to catch this guy by surprise—but for all he knows he's pausing time every three seconds to look around. He doesn't _look_ like he is but that means fuck all.

The sword in Keith's hand cracks; water is spilling from his hand, soaking his sleeve and dripping a trail on the pavement. Well, Lance is just gonna have to run support this battle, then. He makes another sword.

"Lan—Ice—"

"Here," Lance says as Keith reaches back. He takes the new sword and tosses the old one aside to shatter on the sidewalk, and resumes the fight seamlessly. Chronophobia doesn't look terribly beleaguered, though. Annoyed, maybe, but for all of Pidge and Keith's attempts he's barely got a scratch on him. He sees Lance watching and meets his eyes.

"Enough of this," he says. In the next instant he's standing behind Keith with his sword to his throat, and Lance barely has the chance to notice before a wet pain erupts across his chest. He crumples, looking down, and finds blood, and several long slices through his shirt and into his skin.

What the—

Chronophobia attacked him _outside of time?_

He clutches his chest and looks up. Keith is stock still, straining at an odd angle to avoid slicing his own throat open, and the sight sends a violent shudder through Lance's body.

"I'll come back another time," says Chronophobia. "I hope you will be better prepared."

And he vanishes, and Keith slumps into a more natural position, and Lance's chest _throbs._ Running footsteps sound behind him before hands collide with his shoulders, and then he can feel his wounds closing up.

"What a jerk," Allura mutters behind him.

"What are we supposed to do about him?" Hunk asks. "He can do anything he wants!"

"We'll have to figure something out," Lance wheezes—which means _he'll_ have to figure something out, ugh. "Hopefully he'll stay focused on us, and not the civilians."

"If focuses on us, we'll die," says Hunk.

"We're not dead yet. Everyone okay?"

"Are _you_ okay?" Keith asks almost before he's finished talking. Lance looks at him and he's reeling all over again. Like _fuck_ he's okay right now, _Keith_ is here.

"Fine," he says a little too late, a little too sharp. Keith tenses up and stays back; he’s pulled his glove off and is rubbing his scarred right hand up and down his thigh as if to warm it. It’s still red from holding the frozen sword. Lance looks away.

Shit, they have to talk. Badly.

"Let's get back," he adds, getting to his feet. "Better the civilians at least _think_ we can protect them, and anyway, we still have the demons to worry about."

Pidge groans.

"I know, me too." Lance shakes himself out, orients himself, turns back to their headquarters 2.0. "Come on."

The walk back is subdued—everyone lost in thought, probably, thinking about how thoroughly they got their asses kicked. They pull it together though when the office building comes into sight.

"So," Pidge says slowly. "Phoenix. You seem reasonably strong."

"...Thanks?" says Keith.

"I mean, you're gonna have to get used to us, and us to you—teamwork is a thing. But your powers seem useful. Not that you used them much, but I guess it'll be handy to have someone that knows his way around a sword better than Ice."

"I'm not that bad," Lance protests. Keith looks at him, the same intense gaze as always.

"You remember what I taught you?" he asks, a little too soft. Lance looks away.

"You'd be surprised how much practice I've gotten," he mutters. "Villains really like using swords for some reason."

"...Fair enough. I didn't think you'd actually use it, though."

There are, admittedly, a few reasons he could think that, and not all of them even have to do with his death. Lance shrugs.

"Whatever I gotta do, man." They enter the building again and slow in the lobby.

"Where on earth did you _learn_ to fight with a sword?" Shiro asks. "That's not exactly a common skillset."

"College," Keith says, which is a gross understatement.

"Actually," says Lance, and Keith's head snaps up.

"Don't—"

"He used to LARP."

Keith groans.

"Hey, you didn't have to tell them you taught me." Lance is going to say more, but swallows it instead; it feels too much like _banter,_ the way they used to, and he's not ready for that again yet.

"So you knew each other before, then," says Hunk slowly, as the group stops at the desk.

"That was kind of obvious, Hunk," says Pidge. Shiro and Allura must not have told them—at least _someone_ has some respect for privacy in this place.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, just pointing it out." He lifts his hands defensively.

"It's odd, though," Allura says thoughtfully. "I'm sure the Association knew it; they usually try to keep people apart when they have... outside relationships."

"It's punishment," Lance says, at the exact time as Keith. They meet each others eyes in surprise, and then instantly look away.

"Okay, what?" says Hunk.

"Can we _not_ talk about this?" says Lance. "Seriously, we have bigger problems right now."

" _We_ need to talk, though," Keith says lowly, tying the knots in Lance's stomach tighter.

"Yeah, but not with _them_ ," he hisses, glancing sidelong at him. Keith is already watching him; in response, he grabs Lance's arm and pulls him away. The rest of the team watches in surprise as he stumbles after Keith into the lounge and out of sight.

"Is _now_ really the best time—"

'What do you mean, they're punishing _you?_ " Keith demands. "You did exactly what they wanted!"

"What are you—they wanted _you!_ They've been after me from day one, and you're—you're _alive_ ," chokes Lance. "They expected me to _lose_."

"They wanted—they wanted one of us, but they didn’t care _which._ Saving me was an _afterthought,_ Lance. They—" Keith stops, gripping his hair as he paces a step away and back. "I realized later, that letter I found, yours—it was the same as the one I got. That they'd found me and if I wanted to register without getting _locked up_ I'd have to—" He cuts himself off.

Lance gapes. "They sent you after me, too."

"Yes!"

Lance throws his hands up. "Why didn't you _say_ so! We could've—we never would've had to fight at all! But you just walked right out—"

"I didn't know that's what the letter was! All I saw was the seal!" Keith flings his hands wide. "I didn't know they'd made you the same offer, I thought—I thought maybe you'd turned yourself in, or something, or they'd just found you with a sensor—I didn't know you were _Permafrost_."

" _And you didn't realize when we fought_ —it was only a mask, I was _wearing the same clothes_ —"

Keith drags a hand down his face, finds his own mask, and rips it off and tosses it aside. There’s a sharpness to his face that wasn’t there before, but his eyes are the same, deep and intense and beautiful. "I thought he looked like you, but it couldn't possibly—why would it be you? I'd left you at home—why would they send me after _you?_ "

"Punishment," Lance says, breathing hard. "It was punishment. Or they didn't know."

"No," Keith says immediately. "No, they knew, Lance, listen—I realized later, they set us up. They pitted us against each other on _purpose_."

"But why!?" Lance shrugs violently. "What reason could they possibly—"

"Because we were _dangerous_." Keith straightens up. "Don't you see? A pair of experienced vigilantes, with complementary powers, loyal only to _each other?_ We weren't under their control back then. They didn't have anything on us, they couldn't keep us in line. Now?" He gestures at the walls around them. "We're puppets. We step out of line, they can destroy us."

He thinks of Knights Chi trying to save people, and Choir Delta sent to fight them, and it catches in his gut and drags him deep. Yes; they do destroy those who step out of line. It's just never been so clear.

And then, further back, the dossier—the things they'd said Torch had done, that nagging feeling when he didn't recognize any of it. The denial he'd never quite registered, after, because _Keith would never—_

"They wanted us to hate each other," he realizes. "We were a _threat_."

"Exactly," Keith breathes. "Exactly."

Lance sinks down onto the ratty couch, buries his head in his hands. Fuck.

"I should've told you," he mumbles.

The couch sinks as Keith sits down on it, too. "Me, too," he says. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, too." Lance takes a deep breath, and looks up. "So if all that's true... why send you here? Why _now?_ "

Keith looks away. "I've been a thorn in their side from the start. They're... reminding me of my failures." He snorts. "They had me killed once, they can do it again."

"I wouldn't," Lance says quickly, lungs seizing. "I'd never—I'd rather die myself than... than do that again."

Keith gives him a sad sort of smile that makes his stomach flip. "I don't think they're concerned about _who,_ so long as they get the point across."

Lance remembers how to breathe again, and slumps back on the couch, spent. At least it seems like Keith doesn't blame him for what happened—so that's something.

He still feels guilty as hell, though.

"I guess they could be punishing the both of us," Keith says thoughtfully, then, and Lance rolls his head to look at him. "Have you done anything lately they didn't like?"

What _hasn't_ he done, Lance thinks faintly.

"Well," he says, "there's the whole thing with Shiro."

"Champion?" Keith asks.

"Yeah, him. He was leading the demon hunters for a while, but he lost his restraint recently, so now he's kinda just... here."

Keith blinks. "Unbound?"

"Yeah. It's fine, though, he's chill. Actually really nice." Lance shrugs against the cushions. "Like, he didn’t want to be a villain in the first place, Rochester was a mistake—that one’s a long story. But now he's giving former heroes their powers back, so the Association hasn’t given him a new restraint. I know it's weird, 'cause we're the ones that took him down—well, it's only Pidge and me left now—but I trust him. But yeah, I thought taking away CD was the punishment for that, but I guess this is too." Lance stares up at the ceiling. "Or they found out me and Hunk have been sending him out alone to go kill demons at night so we don't get overrun. I don't think the Association would like _that_."

Keith inhales sharply—then, suddenly, he laughs, loud and bright in a way that makes Lance's heart ache. He lets out a surprised giggle or two himself as Keith winds down, wiping a tear of mirth from his eye.

"No," Keith says, with a trailing chuckle. "No, they wouldn't like that."

"In my defense, it's working really well."

And Keith gives him that fond smirk that Lance used to love, that now just makes his chest feel tight.

"You haven't changed a bit," says Keith.

"Missed you, too," says Lance. Fuck, now he feels like he's gonna cry again. Stop the emotional rollercoaster, he wants to get off.

The smirk goes sad again, then. "Don't say that in front of anyone that might report back to the Association," he warns, and Lance's heart drops right to his toes. "It's probably better for all of us if they think their punishment is working."

Lance swallows, and his gaze drops unbidden down to where Keith's hand rests on the couch cushion beside him—his hand, with all three and a half of its fingers.

"It is," he says quietly.

Keith looks down, too, and his remaining fingers curl against the rough fabric.

"Yeah," he says.

Lance can't bring himself to say more—what is there to say? He's still having trouble believing this is happening. He wants to reach out, to take Keith's hand and feel it in his, in all its imperfect solidity—reassure himself that it's real—but decides it's better he doesn't.

"I guess we still need to deal with Chronophobia," Keith says finally.

"Yeah," Lance says reluctantly, and tears his gaze away, back to the door. "We should get back to the team. Make plans."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

Neither move.

Lance sighs. Whatever the Association throws at him, he still has his responsibilities—and he can't ignore them just because his world has shattered all over again. He can't forget all the people under his care just because Keith is here. So, reluctantly, he drags himself up off the sagging couch, and offers Keith a hand up.

"Thanks," Keith says, and takes it. His hand is solid, yes, real—familiar and unfamiliar, and warmer than his. Fire, Lance thinks, and ice. Why does it feel like they were doomed from the start?

He hauls him up, and lets go. They go back to the lobby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reblog astraias art [here](https://crystalpallette.tumblr.com/post/177359284616/hands-suck-djkglh-well-i-missed-one-but-maybe-ill)!


	12. am i out of luck? am i waiting to break?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [shots - imagine dragons](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ndtQ6ReXO-s)

"After everything," Keith says slowly, "you still want to ask the Association for help?"

It's not an unreasonable question, honestly, Lance thinks as he paces the front of the conference room. The Association has fucked him over plenty of times by now, and really, given recent circumstances, there's no reason to believe they'll turn around and suddenly give him everything he needs.

But he remembers how confused Mirage had been, that reminder that they hadn’t always been like _this._ Even now some small part of him thinks there must have been a misunderstanding, a mistake; the Association has always had its flaws but it always seemed to have the public's best interests at heart, during the Crisis. Not the supers, no, they've _always_ been fucking supers over, but when the public clamored for control, for order, for safety, the Association came to give it. Their popularity varied, sure—they had a lot of outspoken critics, and for good reason—but in the end? They had a system, and it worked well enough for enough people that no one's overturned it yet.

So why now they'd put the majority of their support in peril... it doesn't add up. He's willing to believe they have some ulterior motive, sure, that they've never _really_ cared about the public, that they only ever wanted the supers of the world under their control—but what does this gain them? Letting civilians die in favor of taking down their own supers? He wonders wildly if they're all going to be pit against each other, some kind of grand worldwide battle royale to find the strongest—but what then? How would they control the one left standing with no way to threaten them—and who could they use them against if they've let the population succumb to the demons?

It makes no fucking sense, which is why yes, Lance is going to ask the Association for some goddamn help, because otherwise what the hell are they after?

"What are our other options?" he asks pointedly in return, finally. "Give up? I'm not gonna do that and I know you wouldn't either."

Keith frowns. "Of course not, but you know the Association won't help."

"We ought to try, at least," says Allura, bless her. "The worst they can do is say no."

Lance takes back that blessing, actually. "The worst they can do is send Choir Delta back here to kill us, Allura. Like. K—Phoenix has a valid point."

"They would need a reason for it," she insists.

"And who are they gonna defend themselves to? The government's still scared shitless, they're not exactly gonna do anything."

"You're arguing against yourself now, you realize this, right," says Pidge. Lance sighs.

"Look, I don't trust the Association, but they have the resources and we're out of options. Unless _you_ have a better idea."

"Well, you're already using Shiro against the demons," she says.

Lance freezes. Hunk visibly swallows.

"What, you thought I wouldn't notice?" She crosses her arms. "Eyes of a hawk, dude. Figurative as well as literal."

"I'm surprised you'd bring it up as an option," he says carefully. Shiro, tucked in the corner, fidgets.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm not exactly wild about the idea," she says, shrugging. "Kind of hate it, actually, but you trust him for some reason and he hasn't killed us _yet._ I figure we're dying either way, so."

Pidge's practicality surfaces in the strangest ways sometimes. "Uh, alright. But 'using Shiro' isn't really a long term plan."

"Better than going to the Association for help," says Keith.

"And when we get the civilians out of harm's way, what then? The demons are one thing, but we still have Chronophobia to deal with. Shiro's strong but he's not invincible. Like, I'm pretty sure Chronophobia could get to him as easily as he got to me."

There's a brief, awkward silence.

"He could," Shiro offers quietly. "I'll still kill demons if you want me to, though..."

Lance sighs, rubs his face. Today has been… a lot. "Does anyone object to that? I mean, obviously Pidge objects, but does anyone have a better idea?"

Allura frowns, but Hunk shakes his head and Keith just shrugs. No one speaks up. Lance looks to Shiro.

"Well, welcome to the team, kind of."

"...Thanks, I think." He looks bemused and frankly a little nervous, which is fair, because he's just sort of joined the team that took him down.

Yeah, today has been a lot.

Lance slumps into the nearest chair. "Now that that's settled... I'm still asking the Association for help with Chronophobia. There's gotta be someone else out there who can mess with time."

"I still think it's a bad idea," says Keith.

"And I still agree, but I'm going through the motions, here. Like, they can't blame us for things going to shit if we warned them they would. Well, they can—you know what I mean."

Keith rolls his eyes.

"And either way, our team composition isn't great right now. I mean, if you discount Shiro, we don't have anyone with ranged powers. Haven't since Rose left. Hunk kinda counts, I guess, but walls aren't great for offense."

"You can do ranged," Keith says, and Lance flinches.

"I haven't done that since... uh, since." He shrugs and rubs his neck.

Keith slaps his forehead. "Your _name_ is Icicle!"

"They asked me to pick a new name on the way to get registered! I wasn't exactly in the best mental state for getting creative!"

"So you picked _that?_ "

Lance folds his arms. "Like you can talk, _Phoenix_."

Keith pouts. "It's a little on the nose, I know, but I wasn't the one that picked it. Someone else named me that."

Pidge clears her throat. Lance looks away.

"Anyway," he says. "We need any help we can get, is my point."

"We can also inform nearby teams," Allura adds. "Knights Chi and Choir Delta are unavailable, I'm sure, but Sorority Sigma and Company Rho aren't too far away, either."

"They're busy with their own demons, they can't help," says Pidge.

"No, but if we're concerned with establishing that we made an attempt..." She shrugs. "They can back us up on that, and would think twice if sent after us, I think. Icicle, do you think Windrunner would believe you, if Choir Delta were redirected here?"

"Oh, I see what you mean," says Lance. "Well. I’d _like_ to think so..."

"But it won’t help," Keith finishes. "I was part of Choir Delta since... for almost two years, now, off and on. I guess every time the Association pulled me out was when the rest of CD was coming to help you. Anyway, the question isn’t whether she’d believe us."

“The question is whether she’d go against the Association for us, and the answer is no,” Lance says.

“Exactly,” says Keith.

"Do you think you could convince her?" Allura asks.

"I hope I never have to try," is Keith's only answer.

"...I think CD kinda knows what's going on, anyway. But we can get in contact with the Sigs and Rhos, at least," says Lance. "Assuming we have a way to do that without the Association knowing. I'd rather not send our scouts out there, if possible, it's dangerous out there alone."

"The Association had me on a desk job for a long time. I know their numbers," Allura says with a smile. "And they can only legally record calls between headquarters..."

"So we just use a different phone? That sounds... almost too easy," says Lance. "Are you _sure_ they don't record anything incoming?"

"Civilians can call in tips to those numbers, and they can't record civilians. Whether they do in _secret_ is another matter."

"We'll just have to be careful in how we word it," says Pidge. "Let them know what's happening without letting slip what we think the Association's gonna do about it. Or, more accurately, what they won't."

"Works for me," says Lance. "One final, million-dollar question for you all, then. When the Association inevitably gets back to us that they won't help for shit, what do we do about Chronophobia?"

Unsurprisingly, he's met with silence.

"Yeah, okay, I have some thoughts," he continues. "I don't think attrition is gonna work on this guy; even if his stamina's shit, there's no good way to keep him from fucking off when he gets tired. And he's perfectly happy to toy with us until then 'cause he knows we can't touch him. Furthermore, he wants us around, for some reason."

"Why?" asks Hunk. "He's a villain, he should want us gone."

"Yeah, dude, I have no idea what his motivation is," says Lance. "But obviously he could kill us all in an instant, if he wanted to, and he didn't. My guess is there's something he wants here and he doesn't wanna deal with all the demons himself, but like... that's just a theory, and we don't exactly have a lot of evidence."

"So once he finds what he's looking for, we're all dead," says Shiro.

"Or he just fucks off to whatever hole he crawled out of, I don't know. I could see it going either way, he was a weird one. And, another thing, he wants us to know he's here, or else he wouldn't have sought us out. I mean, it wouldn't be very hard to hide out somewhere around here, especially with time powers to get him out if someone ever stumbled across him. I don't have the faintest clue of how that fits in."

"So he's planning something," says Pidge.

"Yes, but, what?"

She tilts her head. "What's _your_ plan?"

"Assuming he isn't just a crackpot—whatever he's planning can't be good, and I'm not keen on finding out by letting it run its course. And since we don't know what it is, we don't know how long it will take, which means we gotta take him down A.S.A.P."

"How?" says Keith.

"I'm _getting_ to that. We need to take him by surprise." Lance gets up and starts pacing again. "You managed to tackle him—it was pretty memorable—but obviously his first instinct when surprised is to stop time, so whatever we do has to be _fast._ Like, instantaneous. And unless we can literally _cage_ him somehow then I don't see a way of subduing him alive." Using Shiro is definitely _not_ an option in this case.

"Knock him out, then cage him," Pidge suggests.

"Granted. Still gotta find a way to knock him out before he can use his power. Not sure we still have a cage, either, that was a Crisis thing."

"Overwhelm him?" says Hunk. "I mean, if we all go at him at once, maybe he'll forget to check behind him or something."

"Pretty sure the moment he feels overwhelmed he'd stop time and get out of there," Lance points out. "No, we need to lull him into a false sense of security. Make him _think_ he's got it under control and then destroy him before he can even blink."

"Sounds simple enough to me," says Shiro.

"That sounds _simple?_ " Hunk asks. Shiro shrugs.

"The problem will be, y'know, actually orchestrating this," says Lance. "Making him feel like he's in control is easy, us actually being in control? Not so much. Also the technical details. How to actually knock him out. I'm open to stabbing, too."

"We don't know that he's actually hurt anyone, yet," Allura points out. "Killing him seems excessive."

"Which is why I'd rather not, if we can help it," says Lance. "But he's distracting us from the demons, which directly endangers people. We can't allow him to do that, whether he hurts anyone with his own two hands or not."

Allura doesn't exactly look mollified, but she presses her lips tightly shut and says nothing. Shiro fidgets in the corner again, brow furrowed, but he says nothing either. It's a harsh judgment, he knows, but his gut tells him Chronophobia is bad news, and he trusts his gut. It's kept him alive _this_ long.

Probably better to let that sink in than to press the point right now, though, and probably everyone's exhausted anyway. He waves a hand at them all and sits back down.

"Go rest," he says. "We'll discuss this more later. Come with ideas."

"Don't mind if I do," Pidge mutters, and slips out, quickly followed by Allura and Hunk. Keith presses a gentle hand to his shoulder on the way out but doesn't linger.

Shiro, however, does, shifting restlessly on his feet by the door.

"What you said," he says. "About... hurting people indirectly."

Lance looks up at him. "Yeah?"

"That was... I did that. I tried not to hurt anyone on purpose—with my own two hands—but people got hurt anyway."

Lance digs the palms of his heels into his eyes. Yeah, Shiro's pretty much right, and from that point of view it's probably shitty. He gets that, but he's got civilians to protect, too, and there's no denying that civilians were hurt because of things Shiro did—powers he stole, powers he used, the people he had to protect to protect himself.

"There's a reason you were considered a villain," he points out. "You'll note we didn't kill you, either."

" _You_ didn't kill me," Shiro corrects tightly. "I know others wanted to. Pidge, for example."

"Yeah, I got flak for it. And I'm glad I didn't kill you, for whatever that's worth. But Chronophobia isn't you, Shiro." Lance looks at him pointedly from between his hands. "This guy came looking for a fight. He didn't kill of any of us, no, but he seemed happy enough to hurt me on his way out when he probably didn't need to." He pauses. "Makes me wonder if he can only hold it for so long, actually. But that's not the point, the point is, I'm not going to kill him if I can help it, for all that he clearly _intends_ to be dangerous. Does that make you feel any better?"

Shiro makes a face. "I'm not sure."

"Well, feel free to think about it and get back to me." Lance stretches in his seat. "Go hang with Hunk, yeah? I'm gonna nap."

Shiro frowns, but he nods and heads out. Lance considers just leaning on the table and catching a cat nap there but decides the better of it, and gets up to head out to find a sofa at least.

Allura is waiting outside the door.

"Ice, may I talk to you?" she asks.

"Sure, what about?"

"Phoenix."

Shit.

Lance rubs his face and swallows back the cold feeling in his chest. "Great, yeah, okay. Fantastic. Let's talk about Phoenix." He turns and heads right back into the conference room; she follows.

"I understand you wish to leave the past behind you, but I think you'll find it rather difficult now that it has, quite literally, come back to haunt you," is what she comes out with right off the bat. "I have concerns."

“Did you know?”

“That you were Permafrost? Yes, I realized the moment I saw you.”

“No.” Lance shakes his head. “That he was still alive.”

“Oh.” She sighs. “No, I did not, or I would’ve pushed harder. That was something you deserved to know—even if you preferred to put it behind you.” She gives him a look.

"Allura, I did talk to him," he says. "It's fine. We're fine."

"Are you?" she asks pointedly. "Are you sure your past won't affect the team?"

"I won't let it."

"It's affecting you," she adds, quieter. He wants to deny it but the words stick in his throat.

She continues. "I remember it, Icicle. I didn't know you beforehand, but you were..." She frowns. "Distraught is not a strong enough word, and I dislike the implications of 'broken.' But you understand what I'm saying, don't you?"

"It fucked me up," Lance says flatly, "and I'm still fucked up, I know. How would you feel if you killed the person you loved the most, huh?"

"I'm not sure I could survive it," she says, with a quiet tone that makes him think she has at the very least been changed by loss. Well, she _was_ in Rochester. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.

"I didn't have a choice," he says. "About surviving it."

She blinks. "I didn't know until afterwards—"

"I'm not blaming you," he sighs. "Obviously you didn't know. And yeah, obviously it affected me, and it affected our battle today. But—with respect—it's not on you to do anything about it, Allura. It's on me."

She regards him for a moment, and then nods.

"I understand," she says. "If you want to talk, though, I'm here."

"I appreciate that." He doubts he'll take advantage of it—she was too close to the carnage, too far from all the context—but he's not lying. It's a nice gesture, and a genuine one. "Take it easy, okay?"

She nods again. "I will," she says, and steps out. He sighs and slumps against the table.

Today has been more than a lot. It's been too much, really. He closes his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope yall enjoyed this break in the action, because well be jumping back in soon enough :)


	13. we're close to close enough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [stockholm - atlas genius](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CilbB5CQ5jM)
> 
> ive been meaning to say this for like three chapters now but if you havent read young blood (the prequel) youll have been thoroughly spoiled for it by now, and you know keith doesnt stay dead, so like you might as well. if you want. you probably dont need to. :P

Lance drums his fingers against the tabletop, pointedly out of rhythm with the music coming from the phone in front of him. Even as a super, calling the Association is an exercise in frustration; he can only be patient for so long when there's so much at stake.

"Still on hold?" Pidge wanders in and leans against the kitchen counter.

"Yep," says Lance, muffled by the way he's resting his chin on his hand.

"Wow, it's almost like they don't give a shit."

He snorts dully.

It's a long moment before there's finally a click and a voice says, "Thank you for holding, how can I help you?"

"Hi!" Lance scrambles to pick up the phone even though it's on speaker. "This is Icicle, of Authority Tau."

"Okay, what can I do for you, Icicle?"

"We've got a new villain," he says. "He goes by Chronophobia and has the power to pause time. I'm requesting backup, preferably someone with time powers as well, on account of power mismatch and also the demons. And we're chaperoning Champion."

"Please hold."

The music starts again, and Lance groans and drops the phone onto the table again.

"Well, it's progress," says Pidge, clearly enjoying his suffering.

"Yeah, now I just gotta wait for them to find an excuse to say no." Lance leans back in his chair and stares at the tiled ceiling.

Pidge snorts. "They don't need an excuse. They're just making you wait so it seems like they thought about it first."

"True."

They lapse into silence. Lance starts tapping his fingers on the table again.

Finally the phone clicks again, and Lance sits up attentively.

"Icicle?"

"Yep, I'm here," he responds.

"My superiors will consider granting your request if you return Champion into the Association's custody."

That wasn't even _close_ to what he was expecting. "What? Why?"

"They did not provide a reason. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

Lance makes a face at Pidge. "Uh, no, I guess not. Thanks?"

"No problem. Have a good night."

"You too," he responds distantly, and the call clicks off. Lance puts the phone down on the table again.

"Wow," says Pidge.

"Okay, what the fuck," Lance mutters. "I thought they were just gonna say no. What the fuck was that?"

"Maybe they actually think they're helping?" Pidge suggests. "I mean, having Shiro around is _supposed_ to be a burden."

"Of course they only realize that _after_ we put him to use." He gets up and starts pacing. "If they'd taken him in the first place it'd be fine, but now it feels like giving up our—not _safety net_ but like—worst came to worst we could fling him at the problem and hope he destroys it, you know what I'm saying? Without him, if we can't handle something, we're fucked."

"I think we're pretty fucked anyway," Pidge points out. "That's why you asked for help in the first place."

"Yeah, fair, I just..." Lance runs an agitated hand through his hair. "I just don't _get_ it! Why do they want him _now?_ Unless they found out we're using him, but then, I don't see why they wouldn't declare us villains straight off. I mean, he's Champion." He throws up his hands and flops onto the sofa. "What the fuck are they playing at?"

"Taking a dangerous villain out of your hands, since apparently you're happy to let him roam free?" she says dryly, and he pauses.

"Pidge," he says, "I'm sorry."

She raises an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry for trying to keep secrets," he clarifies. "I just—you know I'm doing whatever I can to make this work. I thought—if you objected—I value your opinion, you know? I trust your judgement. And if you'd said no, I don't know what I would've done—you know?"

"I know," she says, flapping a hand at him. "It's fine, Ice. I get it. Believe it or not, I trust your judgment, too." She fixes him with a hard look. "You believe Shiro doesn't mean us harm. I understand why you think that, and I personally don't trust him an inch, but I'm not going to let my personal feelings get in the way of our job. He's strong, he's fighting demons, he's kind of saving our asses right now. I can accept that even if I don't like it."

Lance lets out a long breath. "Pidge, you're the best. Seriously."

"I know." She smirks. "And in the same vein, I think we shouldn't give Shiro up just for some vague promise—not even a promise—of help."

He sits up. "What?"

"They didn't even say they'd help," she points out. "They said, 'we'll consider it,' and that's only if you send Shiro back." She crosses her arms. "The way things are going, I think it's not even a small chance that they'd take Shiro and not send _anyone_ in return, in which case we'd _really_ be up shit creek. At least now we have a paddle, so to speak. Like you said—if worst comes to worst."

Lance put his face in his hands, peers over the tips of his fingers. "Pidge," he says into his hands, muffled, "if we refuse, they'll probably say we've gone rogue. They'll call us villains."

She sighs and leans her head back, speaks to the ceiling. "I know. But you have a reputation, and it's a good one. I think—I _hope_ —it'll be enough to cast doubt. To make people turn around and take a harder look at the Association." She tilts her head back down to look at him. "I think they'll have a hard time convincing people that the team that took Champion down up and joined him, don't you?"

"That's... not far off from what's actually happened," he points out.

"Yeah, and it's pretty fucking unbelievable, and I'm living it," she returns. "And I don't know how much the public knows about what's been happening lately—things like Knights Chi over in New York—but there are civilians involved and I'm pretty sure social media is still a thing. And there's gotta be some confusion, somewhere—someone has to have said, wait a minute, this doesn't make sense." She takes a breath. "And if they call us villains? Maybe that will push it over the edge."

He sits back. "This is bigger than Boston."

She nods. "This could change things for the better, Ice."

"And if it doesn't?"

"Then at least we'll have bought ourselves enough time to get the rest of the civilians out. We're almost there."

He takes a deep breath, lets it out. "It's a big risk."

"That's never stopped you," she says with the hint of a smile.

"I don't like dragging you all down with me," he says, running a hand through his hair. "I know you'd come to hell and back with me—and I love you for it—but Hunk and Allura, they could still get out, you know? And I think I've ruined Phoenix's life enough by now."

"Hunk would follow you anywhere too, I think," says Pidge. "And despite her attitude, I think Allura does respect you. Phoenix is new, but you guys obviously have a history—you could judge better than me." She pauses. "You never did say what that history _was_."

Lance sighs. "How much attention were you paying to Rochester at the start of the Crisis?"

"Considering I had family there, and that's where the Shimmering started at all? Quite a bit."

"Okay." Lance takes a breath. "Did you hear about Torch and Permafrost?"

She nods—and then freezes, and her eyes go wide. "Oh, shit."

"Yeah, that was me. And him." He rubs his neck.

"You... oh my god," she says. "...Were you really dating?"

"Yeah. Yeah, we were dating." Lance shrugs and looks at the opposite wall instead of her. "For like, years. And then the Association found us and pit us against each other and... there were some misunderstandings."

"Jesus Christ."

"Yeah."

There's a long pause.

"That explains the crying," Pidge says, again to the ceiling.

"Yeah."

"You missed him."

He can't even begin to describe how much. "...Yeah."

She looks at him again. "You happy he's here?"

That's... hard to answer. Part of him is happy, sure—part of him is positively ecstatic, and it's not a small part, either. But there's the guilt, too, the uncertainty, the memories; they sour the happiness.

"Yeah, but it brings up some bad memories," he says finally.

"I'll bet," she says softly. And, louder, "Allura and Shiro know?"

"Allura was the one who healed me afterwards, so it was probably pretty obvious to her," he says with a sigh. "I told Shiro, after the restraint thing. And now you know."

"Are you going to tell Hunk?"

He rubs his face. "I hate talking about it this much. You can tell him, I don't mind, K—Phoenix is _here_ so it's not like I can really hide it anymore."

Pidge pauses. "Any more life-changing secrets, or is this all?"

Lance snorts without any real humor. "No, that's it."

"I should hope so."

There's a long pause.

"What now, Captain?" Pidge asks finally.

"Now... I tell the team we're just as fucked as suspected, and we start planning how to take Chronophobia down." He rubs his face. "Oh yeah, and the demons. We gotta keep fighting those."

"We can send the hunters out against the smaller ones," she points out. "By now I think they can handle them on their own."

"And if Shiro keeps going out at night, we might just stay on top of that," Lance adds, breathing out slowly. "Okay. We got this."

"That's the spirit." She smiles, and he returns it.

"Now the key is to not die."

"And there it goes again."

"Oh, shush." He stands. "I'm gonna go do stuff."

"Later," she says, and he leaves the room actually feeling, for the first time in a while, hopeful. If only a little.

* * *

Lance peers around the corner. There's a single class three in the street; the hunters are busy with a nest of twos across the city, so this one is up to Authority Tau. As long as Chronophobia doesn't show up—and it's been a few days, so who knows—it should be a piece of cake.

And as long as Lance doesn't get distracted by Keith's mere existence, but he's getting there. Gratifyingly, Keith hasn't been doing any better.

Keith is staring at him now when Lance turns back to his team, only to look away when Lance meets his eye. Par for the course, really.

"Are we absolutely sure we're not gonna get surprised by some demonic backup?" Lance asks Pidge.

"Scouts say there's nothing else nearby," she says. "And _yes,_ I stressed the importance of being thorough and that we keep getting ambushed."

"Alright," says Lance. "Phoenix, go around and get on its other side. Hunk, Allura, Pidge, the usual. Shiro, we can't trust the scouts and there's probably a few around, so stay back unless things go south, just in case. Everyone clear?"

"Aye, Captain," says Hunk.

"You've been spending too much time with Pidge. Phoenix, go; we'll wait a bit and then attack, so go fast."

Keith nods and slips away. Lance counts up one minute, then two, and then gestures to the rest of his team.

They slip out of hiding and into the street. The demon grunts and turns, but Lance is already laying down ice, and Pidge has taken to the skies. And the moment it steps forward and slips on Lance's ice, Keith is there behind it, aflame, singeing its horns and hide.

They're getting the hang of this, slowly, but surely.

Pidge lands heavily on the demon's chest, then, spurs digging deep, and the demon starts to writhe. They all back off to watch it die. Easy, this time, but that's so rarely the case that Lance remains tense and alert, searching the area for any sign of something amiss.

So his eyes flick instantly across the street at the slightest hint of movement, and therefore he notices the lanky, masked man as soon as he steps out of the shadows.

"Hey!" he shouts, and the man looks at him. The rest of the team looks at the man. He lifts his arms in a gesture of surrender.

"What now?" Pidge groans.

"Let's find out," says Lance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> youre welcome to make guesses about our newcomer lmao (i absolutely LOVE reading your guyss theories omg)


	14. my fears, where do i go from here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my fault - imagine dragons](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SjixS9b4Mg8)

They approach the masked man cautiously, who remains still, arms still uplifted. He appears unarmed, but that doesn't mean he isn't a super, and his dark clothes and mask aren't a good sign.

"I mean you no harm," he says when they're close enough. "I only bring information."

"What kind of information?" Pidge demands.

"Information that those back at headquarters do not want you to know."

She and Lance exchange a look.

"Shiro, is he a super?" Lance asks.

Shiro raises an eyebrow, but he obligingly steps forward to touch the masked man's exposed hand. The man doesn't move, and after a moment Shiro steps away again.

"No," he says. "Nothing."

"Then let's bring him back with us and see what he has to say."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea, Pops," says Pidge.

"And I'm not gonna turn away the possibility of inside info when everything's going to shit. We can tie him up, if you want."

Pidge squints at him a moment, then looks at the man. "I do want."

The man shrugs. "I will cooperate."

They end up using a shoelace to secure his wrists together—gone are the days of carrying a full kit of gear on every excursion, though to be frank, maybe they should return—and escort him back to the office building thusly. Despite the looks from scouts and hunters they bring him straight in to the lounge and show him to the sofa, arraying themselves around the room.

The man sits and finally pulls off his mask with his tied hands, to reveal a guy that's gotta be pushing 40 but nevertheless sports a short blonde fauxhawk. His face is as thin and bony as the rest of him.

"You may call me Ulaz," he says.

"Interesting name," Pidge comments.

"I dare not give out my real name, even to you," Ulaz responds. "GALRAS has more than enough ways to track me already; I would rather not give them another."

"GALRAS?" asks Lance.

"The Global Appellation, Licensing, and Reparation Association for Superhumans," he clarifies. "I understand most supers refer to it as the Association, but within, it is called GALRAS."

Allura is nodding tightly. "Yes, I've heard that as well."

"So he is who he says he is?" Hunk offers.

"He's from the Association, at least," says Pidge. "That doesn't mean his offer of help is genuine."

"I think I remember him," Shiro adds. "He was one of the technicians when I got my arm."

Ulaz nods to him.

"Again—still don't trust him," says Pidge.

"Please at least hear me out," Ulaz continues. "I understand your suspicions, and they are well-founded. Likely true in some cases, as well, though I assure you I am no longer part of the Association—merely a fugitive."

"For what?" Keith asks pointedly.

"For refusing to take part in their plans for Shiro." He turns to the man in question, and everyone else does too.

"I'm not sure I want to know," Shiro says nervously. "I take it they weren't just planning to give me a new restraint."

"No. Their intention was to find a way to recreate your power artificially. To take away supers' powers permanently, and not merely block them—because, as you've proved, that method is fallible."

A chill runs up Lance's spine. "Who were they planning to use that on?" he asks, even though he dreads the answer.

"Everyone," Ulaz says, confirming his worst suspicions. "I'm not aware of their full plans, or motivations. But I can say this for sure: the leadership of GALRAS is not human."

Pidge snorts. "Pitting supers against each other while plotting to take their powers? Yeah, I'd say that's pretty shitty."

But Ulaz shakes his head. "I meant it literally," he says. "They are not human. They are demons; class seven or so, by the typical scale, I would guess."

The team stares at him.

"That's insane," says Pidge. "That's completely bonkers."

"I've seen Dr. Zarkon on TV, he looked pretty human to me," adds Hunk.

Ulaz shrugs. "I'm not sure how exactly he's managed to pull it off; perhaps it's some type of power that upper-class demons can control. But the level of demonic energy he gives off is unmistakable. He is not human, whatever he appears to be."

"He was in charge long before the spawn points began to open," Allura says with furrowed brow.

"He was," Ulaz confirms. "He has a wife and son, as well; the wife at least is human, but their son also carries some amount of demonic energy. Without knowing his goals, I can hardly explain why it took so long for the lesser demons to follow him here, but I do know it's his doing."

"You got any proof?" Pidge asks pointedly.

"I have some files," Ulaz says, and awkwardly retrieves a thumb drive from his pocket.

Pidge takes it with obvious trepidation, but nevertheless she goes to plug it into one of the left-behind office computers in the next room. Lance folds his arms and regards Ulaz in the meantime.

"What's _your_ goal?" he says. "Why come to us with this?"

"I cannot knowingly support an organization that intends to murder—or let die, at best—the majority of the world's population, if not all of it," Ulaz says, calm despite the profundity of the statement. Which sounds too extreme to be real, but Lance's experiences go far to back it up.

"Alright, I mean, fair enough," he says. "But why us specifically?"

"You have Shiro, and this concerns him," Ulaz points out. "Not to mention your reputation, of course. You and your team are well-respected, even if some members have been rotated out. _And_ you've been one of GALRAS' favorite targets lately; as a team, but as individuals as well, I believe."

"I _knew_ it," Keith mutters.

"Yeah, they've been after the two of us since the beginning," Lance says darkly. "I just don't understand how a demon could get away with living as a human for _years._ Like, you said he has a wife—which means he got married, which means he's gotta have some kind of ID, right? I mean, you need _something_ to get married even if you just go to town hall or something, right?"

"Yeah, you need an ID," says Keith.

"How do _you_ know?"

Keith blinks at him and doesn't say anything, just waits with a flat expression. So he must've looked it up sometime, which... Either he found someone new since the fight—and Lance does _not_ want to think about that even now, after years apart, and besides, he _knows_ Keith and it hasn't been long enough for him to get over Lance _and_ find someone new to care about enough to be thinking about marriage—or... Or he'd been considering proposing, back in college, before the Association got in the way.

Lance _really_ doesn't want to think about that. He takes a deep breath and looks back to Ulaz.

"Anyway, I don't understand how it's possible. I just don't see how he could be a demon."

"It isn't terribly difficult to get false documents, nor do I know for sure that they were legally married," says Ulaz. "But the readings do not lie, as I'm sure Pigeon will inform you momentarily."

"Yeah," Pidge calls grudgingly from the next room. "As far as I can tell, these files are legit, and if they are there's definitely something going on. I mean, maybe demons can possess people or something and that's why—he might not _personally_ be a demon. But this energy is... He's got some connection to demons for sure."

"That doesn't mean Ulaz doesn't have an agenda," Allura warns.

"My agenda is to save humanity." Ulaz shrugs slightly. "It's up to you what to do with this information."

Lance sighs. He doesn't know what to do with it yet; it's a lot to take in. Another one of those worldview-flipping moments, he supposes.

"Guess we can untie you, then," he says, reaching to do so. "Any other shocking revelations?"

"I don't know about revelations," says Ulaz. "I do know that Zarkon's son, Lotor, is something of a wildcard. He has spoken out against his father's policies before, but he has also been seen harassing local teams, lately. He has time-related powers, I believe."

Lance glances over, meets Pidge's eyes, then Keith's.

"Chronophobia," he says.

"I haven't heard the name, but it may be," says Ulaz.

"That was the Association president's _son?_ " says Keith.

“I guess he fits the description," says Hunk.

"Thank you, Ulaz," Shiro says. "Is there anything else?"

"No; that's all, for now." Ulaz gets to his feet stiffly. "There are some like me—that is to say, disillusioned—still within GALRAS who stayed in order to learn more about Zarkon and his goals. I don't know that I will be able to contact them, or they you; likely, I will not see you again either. However, I'm sure that if they discover anything urgent, one will leave to spread the news. In the meantime, I can only wish you luck. May I have my drive back?"

"Sure." Pidge pops it out of the computer and tosses it back to him. He catches it neatly.

"Thank you. Goodbye, Authority Tau." And he ambles out the door. Allura frowns after him.

"Should we really just let him go like that?" she asks.

"I looked through that stuff to the best of my ability, and it's legit," Pidge reiterates. "He's _probably_ not a threat to us."

"And if he is I bet we could take him, the guy looks like he's skin and bones," says Lance. "Maybe we should've offered him food."

"What if the info he's carrying gets into the wrong hands?" Hunk asks, arms curled up in front of him nervously.

"What hands? The Association's? It's nothing they don't already know, and if they catch him he's probably fucked either way," Lance says.

"I dunno what anyone else would do with it," says Pidge. "I mean, if word gets out, things can't get much worse. I hope."

"I know what _we_ should do with it," Keith says, still staring at the door Ulaz left through. "We should go after Chronophobia."

"Hold up," says Lance. "What? Why?"

Keith turns to look at him. "If he's Zarkon's son, then by going after him, we can get to Zarkon."

"And how exactly do you figure that? I'm not saying we shouldn't," Lance adds to Keith's glare. "Just that Zarkon's off at main headquarters ordering everyone dead and his son that he may or may not even get along with is out here running around in the ruins for the hell of it. I don't see how getting at him will help us any."

"He's Zarkon's son," Keith repeats, like that explains it. Hell, considering Keith's family situation—or, more accurately, lack thereof—maybe to him it does.

"Yeah, but what's Zarkon gonna do about it? He's not gonna march up here himself for revenge, he's just gonna send more demons at us, or, I dunno, try harder to take Shiro away or something. Or finally go ahead and call us villains. None of that helps us get at him."

"It could give us an opening, and even if it doesn't, at least we'll get Chronophobia out of the way," Keith points out. Lance sighs.

"I mean, yes, that's good and all, and if he comes back I'm all for taking him down, but we have too much else to deal with without wasting time going and hunting for him. In the meantime, can we please discuss this development!?" He throws up his hands as he looks back at the rest of his team, too. "Our boss is summoning the demons he's telling us to fight! Like, what's he aiming at here!?"

"World domination," Pidge suggests flatly. She shrugs when he gives her a look. "I mean, what else?"

"If he keeps going at this pace, there won't be anyone left to dominate," says Shiro.

"World destruction? He _is_ a demon himself."

"It's a lot of trouble to go through to put himself in a place of power just to turn around and destroy it all. He could've just brought the demons with him in the first place."

"Maybe there's something else going on," Lance points out. "If he was here even before the shimmering sky, maybe he _couldn't_ bring the other demons with him before. Maybe he only just figured it out."

"He got _himself_ here somehow," says Pidge.

"Does any of this matter?" Keith says. "If he's a demon, we have to take him down."

"What, _us?_ " Lance asks. "We can't go after Zarkon."

Keith crosses his arms. "Why not?"

"Uh, because Boston?" Lance gestures around them. "Even once we get everyone out, we have to make sure the demons don't follow, or it'll all be for nothing. We're not Choir Delta, Phoenix, we can't just leave."

"That's just putting a bandaid on the problem. Zarkon is the source. If we go after him—"

"If we go after him there's no guarantee that the demons will stop! We could be dooming hundreds if not thousands of people if we leave—"

"We can't do nothing!"

"I'm not saying we do _nothing,_ just not abandon the people we're supposed to protect."

"That's not enough."

Lance drags a hand down his face. " _Why_ are you so hung up on this?"

"Because we could've been happy!" Keith spits, flinging his arms wide. He stays like that for a moment, breathing heavily, then turns on his heel and marches out the door. Lance sighs and rubs his forehead.

He's pissed at Zarkon for tearing them apart, sure. He always has been, before he even knew any of this. But he has a responsibility, and he understands what that means, no matter how badly he wants to crack open Zarkon's demonic skull because of it.

"Should you go after him?" Allura asks quietly behind him, and Lance finally turns away from the door.

"No, he'll cool off," he says tiredly. "In the meantime, we need to get the next bunch of refugees out. Where are our hunters?"

"On a mission," says Pidge.

"Then let's make sure we're ready to go when they get back." Lance gestures up, to where the few remaining civilians are. He's gonna have to have a chat with Keith later, try and make him understand that things are different now—that he feels the same but that there are more important things than their feelings. They're heroes now, and that changes everything.

There's no going back, much as he wishes there was.

* * *

In an hour, when Keith hasn't yet sulked back in with his tail between his legs, Lance starts to get worried. He requests the scouts keep an eye out for him and finishes preparing to get the almost-final group of civilians to safety.

He doesn't have to worry long, though, because a scout comes tearing in just as he's finished.

"Phoenix is fighting Chronophobia!" is all she has to gasp before he's bolting for the door. Allura catches his arm.

"Wait!" she says. "You shouldn't go alone—"

"Then gather the team, but I'm not waiting." He shakes her off and she steps back with an offended look. "I'm not going to lose him again."

And with that, he heads out, the scout shouting directions after him.

Lance sprints down the street, scanning through his mental map of the area. Where Keith is is a good 15-20 minute walk; he can cut that in half if he runs, but he'll be out of breath and that's not a good way to go into battle. And it's not _fast_ enough.

He scans the area as he runs and finally finds what he's looking for: a long-abandoned but still-intact bike, locked to a wrought iron fence in front of a row of apartments. He ices the lock until it snaps free, wrenches the bike onto the street, and gets pedaling.

He hears shouts minutes later and skids around the corner to see Keith ahead, battered and bleeding but alive, and Chronophobia beyond, singed and enraged. He stumbles off the bike and hurries closer, panting.

"Hey!" he shouts.

Chronophobia looks up. Keith stiffens but doesn't turn. Lance steps up beside him, glancing him over briefly—nothing looks life-threatening, but if Allura were here he'd definitely be telling her to get on that.

"You," Lance says, glaring at Chronophobia. "Fuck off."

"I think you misunderstand what's happened here," he responds.

"I know exactly what's happened and I don't _care._ Fuck off."

Chronophobia frowns and shifts. "Make me."

It's been a while, but Lance doubts he's ever flung an icicle so fast. Even with his powers Chronophobia barely gets out of the way in time, and his frown deepens into a grimace. And then he's forced to dodge again as Lance throws another and another and another, as fast as he can form them.

His aim is good—perfect, even—but Chronophobia can stop time.

He expects it, for Chronophobia to come in close outside of time, and he's ready for it, thrusting forward with his ice the moment he appears. He sinks an icicle into the villain's shoulder before he can attack; Chronophobia disappears and reappears further down the street again.

"This isn't over," he hisses, clutching his shoulder, and vanishes completely.

Keith slumps, then, in the corner of Lance's eye, and he barely turns in time to catch him. He hikes his arm over his good shoulder and directs him back the way they came.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he asks.

"I missed you," Keith says, like that's any kind of explanation. "A lot."

"I... Keith, what?"

"I missed you a lot," he repeats.

"That doesn't answer my question."

"I know it hurts to see me all the time," Keith continues. "I get it. But I was so happy to see you again."

Lance wraps his arm around Keith's waist a little tighter. "Keith..."

"If none of this had happened, where would we be now? Do you think we'd be happy?"

Lance isn't sure yet if he wants to play along. He's still shaking—he hadn't realized he'd been shaking. "...Considering we were in Rochester, we'd probably be dead."

"Well. If we weren’t. Do you think we'd be happy?"

It's not something Lance has let himself think about in a long time, where'd they be if not for their powers. If everything hadn't gotten in their way. But he knows one thing for sure: he loved Keith then with all his heart, and to be honest, he never really stopped.

"Yeah," he says.

"That's why," Keith says finally. "Zarkon ruined it for us. He—our future—I had nothing without you, Lance." His voice trails into a whisper that cuts straight to Lance's heart.

"...I missed you too," he says finally. "A lot."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Keith limps along with him, eyes fixed ahead. There's a grim set to his mouth, a tension that Lance thinks is more than pain.

"What do we do now?" he asks.

_About us_ is unstated, but there's no doubt in Lance's mind that that's what Keith means. There are other doubts, though. Guilt, too, and not a small amount of fear.

They are poised to lose _so_ much.

"I don't know," Lance says honestly. Keith's expression doesn't change—not what he wanted to hear, then, but probably as much as he expected. Lance has made it clear by now where his priorities lie.

They continue silently and meet the team halfway back; Allura immediately tends to Keith, and the rest look to Lance. He shrugs. There's not much to say, other than that Chronophobia got away; the rest is up to Keith, if he chooses to share.

"Ulaz was right," is what Keith does choose to say. "Chronophobia is Lotor."

"What, did you ask him?" snorts Pidge.

"More or less."

"...Right. And I assume you didn't manage to take him down?"

"Almost," says Lance. "We sure pissed him off, though."

"Ice got an icicle through his shoulder," Keith adds. "He's injured now."

"He may have access to a healer," Allura says distractedly as she finishes up with Keith.

"Guess we'll find out," says Lance. "In the meantime, _no running off on your own._ Got it?" He gives Keith a look that probably shows a little more desperation than he'd like. Keith frowns, but he nods anyway.

"How did you manage to hurt him?" Shiro asks.

Lance shrugs. "Had a feeling he was gonna get in my face, so I had an icicle waiting for him. Just..." He mimes thrusting an icicle forward. "Got him."

"Hmm."

"You have a thought?" Lance raises an eyebrow at him.

"I have... teleportation," Shiro says slowly. "Shadow-jumping. If it's dark enough..."

"You could chase him?" Lance finishes. Pidge doesn't look pleased at the thought, nor Allura.

"I could ambush him, maybe," Shiro says with an affected shrug. "I don't have much to pacify him though, other than... you know."

"Mmmyeah I don't think that's gonna fly," Lance says, with a glance towards Pidge and Allura both. "We'll have to figure something else out, and fast, before he recovers."

"We should get back in the meantime," Pidge says pointedly. "The civilians are waiting."

"Yep yep. Tally ho, Taus." Lance gets moving. If he just keeps moving forward, he'll be fine; don't look back.

Don't look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can reblog liviemomo's art [here!](http://liviemomo.tumblr.com/post/177919744270/picture-number-fooooooooour-this-one-was-harder)


	15. we'll learn as we go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [nothing at all - rob dougan](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q02vovRNwFQ)  
>  (i linked the version with words, but i like [the instrumental version](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fxofkW5iPpI) better)

"Icicle!" Hunk bursts into Lance's cubicle, startling him out of his halfway-slumber. "You gotta hear this."

"Mmfwhat...?" Lance sits up groggily. "What's up?"

"Sorry to wake you!" Shiro adds in a stage whisper. Alright, if it's those two plotting something, it definitely can't be good. He blinks until they're more or less in focus in the dim light.

"What time is it?" he mumbles.

"It's only like, ten," says Hunk. Only, he says, like they aren't woken at four every other day.

"Nng. What d'you want me to hear?"

"Not hear, elsewhere."

Lance blinks at him.

"I mean we should talk about this not in the middle of the office," Hunk says when Lance is unresponsive a little too long.

"Oh, _here._ Right," Lance says, and groans up to his feet. "Alright, there's like thirty conference rooms to choose from, take your pick."

They pick one well away from the rest of the team, which definitely doesn't bode well. Lance sits with some trepidation and yawns to cover his unease.

"Okay, what's up?" he asks.

"I know how to take down Chronophobia," Shiro says, and takes a deep breath. "But I'd need to borrow your power."

...Hoo, boy, does Lance have some conflicting feelings about that. He stares at Shiro long enough to make him squirm—Hunk has been squirming since the start—and then sits back.

"Walk me through your plan," he says. "Tell me what you've got."

"A-ah. Well, like I said, it's possible I could ambush him, as long as it's dark enough—like now. And he won't let me get close, obviously, because I'm sure he knows exactly what my powers are." Shiro takes a deep breath. "But he wouldn't expect me to have yours. I could set a trap for him—ice where he won't expect it."

"He might not know Frostbite took his power back," Lance interjects.

"Then he'd be looking for me to be shooting ice out of my hands, not making the ground slippery while he's not looking," Shiro responds immediately, like he's thought about this extensively. Probably he has, in order to be actually pitching the idea. "And if I still can't trap him..."

"Then he can pretend to join him!" Hunk finishes. "Using your power as proof he's turned against us."

Okay, Lance definitely does _not_ like that idea. If any part of this plan is certain to come back to bite him in the ass, it's that.

"Okay, back up," he says. "So you make him slip on my ice somehow. What then?"

"Then Hunk surrounds him with walls too high for him to climb out of," Shiro says.

"And what's to stop him from stopping time the moment he falls and climbing out before the walls are done?" Lance says pointedly. "When that fails, how do you expect to convince him you're trying to join him when you've been attacking him? And, more importantly—you realize the Association wants you back, right? And this Lotor guy is the president's son? He's just as likely to try and capture _you_."

Shiro and Hunk are quiet for a moment.

"I could pretend to turn myself in," Shiro says. "I wouldn't need your power for that."

"And if he has accomplices? Or a restraint or something?"

"Then I'd need you guys as backup nearby," he says more confidently. "But I think I could get out of most situations on my own."

Yeah, probably.

"Nng." He doesn't want to agree with this, but it's the only thing he can see possibly working. "Question. Can you give a power to someone it didn't originally belong to?"

Shiro blinks. "I... don't know. I haven't tried."

"If you just go in and distract him, one of us might be able to sneak in and subdue him," Lance points out. "But that'd be easier if one of us could shadow-jump."

"...I could try it. Which one of you...?"

"Hunk," says Lance.

"Ice," says Hunk.

"No, hold on. You're the one with walls," Lance says. "If anyone can trap him, it's you."

"I can do that from afar!" Hunk protests. "I don't have to get close, and you could probably knock him out with your ice somehow, anyway."

There's a noise outside the room then, a sort of sigh and a thump, and then the door opens.

"I'll do it," says Keith, which, _hell_ no.

"Hold on," Lance protests, standing so fast he knocks over his chair. "You're not coming."

Keith crosses his arms. " _You're_ not going without me."

"You could get hurt again. I can't—I don't want that."

He lifts an eyebrow. "Same to you."

Lance had almost forgotten he'd been injured. "That's not—I get hurt in the line of duty all the time, it's not a big deal. I'm more worried about you—"

"I was part of Choir Delta off and on for, what, two years? You think I don't know that injuries happen—"

"This is different, it's _you_ —"

"It's _you,_ and if you get hurt and I'm not there I can't do anything about it," Keith says with a note of finality. Lance pauses.

"Should we go?" Hunk whispers.

"Let's," Shiro responds, and they step out and close the door behind them. Once they're gone, Lance sighs.

"I'm team leader, and even though this mission is kind of unofficial, I have a responsibility to see it through," he says slowly. "You don't have to get involved."

Keith drops his arms and sighs too. "If you get hurt—if you die, I'll never forgive myself," he says quietly.

"How do you think I feel?" Lance blurts before he can stop himself. "I-I still haven't. Forgiven myself, I mean—"

Keith steps forward and interrupts him with a hug. Lance freezes a moment; Keith's arms are tight almost to the point of pain but the warmth, the sheer _contact_ of him right here is alone almost enough to drive him to tears again. So he wraps his own arms around Keith's back, digging his fingers into his sides, and tucks his face into the crook of Keith's neck as much as he possibly can, and just... breathes.

"I'm sorry," Keith mumbles into Lance's neck, like he hasn't said it already, like Lance doesn't _know_ he's sorry. "I forgive you."

Lance holds him tighter. It's nice to hear, but it's not the problem.

The problem is, Lance killed him, and even though Keith is alive in front of him now he can never undo that.

"I forgive you, too," Lance responds after a moment, because the grief did carry him through anger once, but he forgave him for it long ago. Long before he knew he'd see him again. The anger was easy to let go of, but the guilt? The guilt lingers still.

Keith squeezes him tighter then, and Lance wheezes—god, he's gotten stronger. Keith quickly lets go at the sound but Lance isn't willing to let go yet, so they stay there, arms looped around the other. Close.

"Just let me come too," Keith says finally in his ear. "I can help."

Lance wants to say no—of course he does—but this is bigger than the both of them.

"What do you have in mind?" he asks quietly.

"Couple of options," Keith responds, equally quiet. Casual. "If I'm close enough I can burn up all the oxygen in the area. Won't last long, but probably enough to knock him out. Then I'd just shadow-jump back out."

"...Damn."

"Or I can just put him in a chokehold. As long as he's disarmed, I think he'll have trouble getting out of it, even if he stops time."

Lance sighs. "We'll have to make sure he gets disarmed, then."

"Shiro can probably manage that, somehow."

"Mm." Lance shifts a little. "You didn't have a lot of trouble trusting him, huh?"

Keith shrugs. "You trust him, and I trust you."

Lance sucks in a breath. Keith huffs a little and pulls back to look at him.

"I mean it," he says.

"You shouldn't," Lance says. "I—"

"My death was an accident." He says it with a glare.

"I lied to you about my letter," Lance says instead.

"So did I," Keith points out. "You shouldn't trust me, either."

Lance blinks at him; that hadn't even occurred to him.

"That's... that's nothing, I trust you anyway," he protests.

Keith gives him a look.

"Okay, I get it. I get it." Lance sighs and looks away; it's hard when Keith is right there, so close, but he manages. "If we have our plan, we need to tell Shiro and Hunk."

"Yeah," Keith says. He lets go and steps away, and Lance misses his warmth. "I'll go get them."

He opens the door and steps out, and Lance rights his chair and sinks into it. He buries his face in his hands.

He doesn't get much time to compose himself; Shiro and Hunk weren't far outside the door, apparently, because they return in moments. Lance takes a deep breath and puts his game face on.

"Shiro," he says. "Try and give Cosmo's power to Phoenix. If it doesn't work, we'll need to figure out something else."

Shiro raises his eyebrows, but he says, "Okay," and holds his hand out to Keith. Keith takes it without hesitation.

A long moment passes, and another. Lance is beginning to think it won't work when Keith suddenly vanishes and reappears across the room.

"Whoa," Keith says, looking down at his hands. Fire erupts in his palms for a moment—so he still has that power too, that's good—and then they extinguish and he vanishes only to reappear next to Lance.

"Huh," Shiro says, like he's surprised it worked.

"I can't use both at once," Keith says thoughtfully. "I make too much light. But... it works."

Lance looks to Shiro. "And you can't use it anymore?"

Shiro pauses, then shakes his head. "No, it's gone."

"How do you keep _track_ of so many?" Keith is still looking at his hands.

"They feel different."

"Well, yeah, but you never use the wrong one by accident?" He jumps across the room again, then back to Lance, then across to just behind Hunk, making Hunk jump and yelp in surprise.

"Ah... at first, maybe, but you get the hang of it." There's something pleased in Shiro's expression. Not often he gets to talk about his power in a positive way, Lance supposes.

"Okay, now that we know it's possible," Lance says, "just what were you guys planning to do with Chronophobia once we've got him? We can't exactly turn him in to the Association, he's Zarkon's son."

"No, no, that's the best part," Hunk says. "That's _exactly_ what we're going to do. Because we're trying to draw Zarkon out, right? So we hand him his son. It's like—" Hunk makes a gun motion with his hand, squinting like his thumb's the sights. "Bam, your move."

Lance frowns. "So he calls us villains instead and sends everyone else after us. That won't get Zarkon after us personally."

"Which is why we need to show our hand," Shiro responds. "Let Lotor know we know he's half-demon when we bring him in. Zarkon won't send just anyone after us, lest we tell them his secret."

"...So he comes himself, or sends someone he trusts—someone in his inner circle," Lance finishes. "And then we get to him through them."

"Exactly."

He sits back. "It's risky. If Zarkon is really a class seven demon, I don't know if we can defeat him."

"We have to," Shiro says simply. "The world depends on it."

Keith snorts. "No pressure."

"We do still have the hunters to help!" Hunk points out. "We outnumber him by, like, thirty-something."

"That's assuming he shows up alone, which, if he's smart, he won't."

"We have to try," says Keith. "We have a _responsibility,_ don't we?"

Lance sighs and rubs his forehead. Keith is right, even if he's obviously using Lance's words against him; they have to do this, even if it's impossible. They're the only ones who can even try.

"We're getting the rest of the civilians out first," he says. "Tomorrow. And then we're going after Lotor tomorrow night if we've finished, the night after if we haven't. And we're letting the rest of the team in on this; they deserve to know and be involved, if not now then later. Clear?"

"Yep," says Hunk. Shiro and Keith nod.

"Great. Any other wild plans I should know about, or can I go back to bed?"

"That's it," says Shiro. "Sorry again to wake you."

Lance waves it off. "The rest of you need to go to bed, too, we've got a busy day tomorrow."

"Yes, Captain." Hunk salutes, and the three of them file out of the room. Keith lingers at the doorway until Lance drags himself back up to his feet and follows.

"Are you worried?" Keith asks quietly as they head back to the cubicles.

"Always," Lance responds. "But we gotta do what we gotta do. Goodnight, Keith."

"Goodnight, Lance."

Keith stops at his own cubicle, and Lance continues to his and sinks onto his inflatable mattress feeling utterly spent. Sleep, thankfully, comes quickly.

* * *

Getting the last of the civilians to safety doesn't feel as good as it should. Maybe because he knows what comes next, Lance decides, because all he feels is tired and anxious as he watches the last bus drive into the distance.

A reassuring weight presses into his side, then, and a wing folds around to nudge into his opposite side.

"Hey," says Pidge.

"Hey," says Lance.

"You gonna tell us what that late night meeting was about?" she asks. Of course she knows it happened, even if she doesn't know _what_ happened.

"Yeah," he says. "We've got a plan to take down Lotor."

She increases the pressure of her wing. "And bring the Association down on our heads?"

"Just Zarkon, ideally."

Her wing falls lax. "So it's an actual plan, and not just a go-out-and-wing-it plan like your boyfriend tried? No pun intended."

"He's not—" Lance throat closes before he can finish. Pidge pauses, and then her wing presses into his arm again, gentler, like a hug.

"Sorry," she says. He shrugs.

"Let's head back," he suggests finally. "We'll fill you and Allura in on the way."

She nods and pulls away, and they head back. She and Allura, as expected, aren't very enthusiastic about the plan, but it's not like anyone has any better ideas—not if they want to take action.

Which is why 8 pm finds them all creeping through the darkened city, while Shiro creeps a little more obviously in front of them.

"Scouts reported Chrono was skulking around near the evac route, and he still appeared injured," Pidge had told them. "He shouldn't be too hard to find, especially if he's looking for us—or, more specifically, Shiro."

So all they have to do is let him find Shiro, and then—then they hope for the best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	16. look at the fire and think of me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [begin again - purity ring](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ftkJNilA4Ao)
> 
> hi........ im alive

Shiro enters the alley they'd picked as the ideal place to carry out the plan and Lance hurries through the building he's in as quickly as he dares. They all have a position to be in, though if all goes as planned they might as well not be here at all.

It's not long after he gets into position a couple floors up that Lotor shows at the far end of the alley. The dim light of the moon doesn't show him clearly, but his silver hair is unmistakable—as is the stained bandage wrapped haphazardly around his shoulder.

Shiro starts when he sees him and stops walking. He waits, visibly tense—though how much is an act and how much is genuine, Lance doesn't know—as Lotor approaches.

Lotor stops walking, too. Lance can't quite make out his face, but from the way he's gesturing he'd guess he's talking. Shiro soon responds but Lance can't hear him either from up here. It makes him all the more nervous that he can't tell what's happening as they exchange words.

Shiro takes a small step back, lifts his hands. Lotor tilts his head thoughtfully. There's a long, tense moment, and Lance is wondering if he's going to have to intervene, but then Lotor nods and drops his sword aside.

There's an instant shift in the shadows behind him and Keith is there, reaching for Lotor. He wraps his arm around his neck, forcing him down. Lotor twitches oddly—jerking instantly from position to position, like he's using his power to try and escape—and then he goes limp. Just like Keith predicted. Lance breathes again.

The moment Keith lets Lotor drop to the ground, he vanishes.

"Shit," Lance says. A glance tells him Lotor's fallen sword is gone, too. He runs for the stairs.

He barely avoids tumbling down the staircase and finally—after what can only have been seconds, but feels like minutes—bursts out onto the street. Pidge is already there and Hunk and Allura soon emerge too. Lotor is behind Shiro, sword to his neck.

"—set me up," he arrives in time to hear Lotor hiss. He doesn't seem to be paying any attention to the rest of them—like he's threatening _Shiro_ specifically. "Do you even know what you've done?"

Shiro swallows. "No," he says. His searching eyes find Lance's—he glances to Lotor, then back to Lance, a desperate expression. Down a little and back up to Lance, questioning.

Lance looks down to Shiro’s neck, where Lotor's bare hand holds Shiro's shoulder. Where his thumb rests on the collar of Shiro's shirt, just barely touching his skin.

Lance meets Shiro's eye, and nods.

There's no visible change, at first. But then Shiro is suddenly ten feet away, rubbing his neck as he looks casually back to Lotor. And Lotor lowers his sword, first with anger and then with shock, and then with _rage_ as he looks up from his own shaking hands back to Shiro with the realization that his power is gone.

"Drop the sword," Shiro suggests, as the team moves in.

Lotor doesn't speak, just looks between them all—for a moment, Lance thinks he's going to charge. But then he turns and runs instead.

"I got him," Pidge says, and takes off.

"I don't like this," Allura says as the rest of them converge around Shiro. And yeah, Lance isn't wild about Shiro having time powers either, but that gives him an idea.

"Shiro," he says. "Give his power to Allura."

"What?" she demands.

"I think having a healer who can stop time sounds pretty useful to me." He shrugs, feigning casualness, but this is bound to be a turning point—in their team dynamics if nothing else. Hunk and Keith watch silently; Shiro waits.

Allura frowns at him, but after a moment she turns to Shiro and holds out her hand.

"Fine," she says.

Shiro raises his eyebrows, but he takes her hand. She doesn't do anything flashy for her first attempt at time travel, just wrenches her hand out of his, apparently, because in an instant it stops being in his hand and hangs by her side again.

"Good?" Lance asks. She looks at him, looks down at her hands.

"...Yes," she says.

"Awesome." He rocks back on his heels. "Damn, maybe I should grab one of his powers. Shiro, what've you got that'd complement my ice?"

"There's the hydrokinesis," Shiro says, sounding a little confused.

"Oh, man. That'd be _sick_."

"But it's from Aquarion, and he might want it back."

"I doubt anyone's gonna be coming to get their powers back anytime soon. We can try it later, anyway." Lance shrugs. "Let's go catch up with Pidge."

They find a very satisfied-looking Pidge sitting crosslegged on Lotor's back where he lies face-down on the pavement, groaning. She hops off when she sees them coming.

"Took you long enough," she says, kicking his sword a little further away. "Got him. Also, I gotta say, not a fan of letting Shiro take his power, even if it means we've apprehended this guy." She nudges him with a foot.

"Already had him pass it on to Allura," Lance says. "Let's bring him back and find an office to lock him in for the night. Or, hell, we could just let him go. That was kind of the point, wasn't it?"

"Better we bring him in ourselves, make sure our point gets across."

"True. Alright, up and at 'em, man." Lance bends over to try and roll Lotor over. "Jeez, Pidge, what'd you do to him?"

"Just knocked him over. He'll be fine," she says dismissively.

"Hunk?"

"I got him."

Hunk hefts him up into a fireman's carry, and they start back to the office building.

* * *

The moment Lance wakes up he _knows_ something is wrong.

He sits up; it's still dark, so it's not like he's overslept in any way. And there aren't any alarms going off or shouting anywhere nearby, so it's not that there's a demon around. In fact, it's completely silent. He can hear Pidge breathing in the next cubicle over.

That's what it is. It's silent. The vent fans that are _always_ running have stopped. And when he gets up and feels around for the entrance to his cube and looks out, the stairwell lights are off.

So the power is out, then? Or someone has just turned the entire building off somehow.

He makes his way first to the office they stuck Lotor in; the scout he posted is still there, he discovers, as he walks into her and they both yelp.

"It's me!" he says quickly. "He hasn't gotten out, has he?"

"Oh. No, I heard him shifting around in there a minute ago but he hasn't tried to leave," she says. "What's going on?"

"Power's out, I guess," he responds. "Sit tight for now. You know where I can find a flashlight?"

"All us scouts carry one—do you want to borrow mine?" She clicks it on and they both blink in the sudden light; sure enough, the office door is still closed.

"No, that's fine, keep it," he says. "I'll figure something out. Stay alert."

She nods, and he turns and heads back to the cubicles—she helpfully points the flashlight after him. He slips into Keith's cube and gently shakes him.

"Keith, wake up."

"Mmng?" Keith rolls over. Lance can't see if he's opened his eyes or not.

"Keith, how long can you use your power? Like, continuously?" he asks.

"A while," Keith mumbles. "Wha'sup?"

"Power's out."

"Mmf." Keith sits up. "Lotor?"

"No, he's still in the office. It's something else."

Keith sighs. After a moment, his hand sets alight in front of him, lighting the cubicle, and Lance can see him—disheveled from sleep, and it sends a pang straight through Lance's heart.

"We gotta investigate?" Keith asks.

"Yep," says Lance. "Could be nothing, but it could be an attack."

Keith sighs. "Alright," he says, getting up while carefully keeping his lit hand away from anything. "Got any ideas?"

Lance shrugs. "Go see if we tripped the breaker? Check with the scouts if the rest of the city is out too? Dunno what we'll do if it is."

"Where's the nearest power plant?" Keith asks. "Maybe it got damaged by demons or something."

"I don't have a goddamn clue. Pidge might know."

"Shouldn't you wake up Pidge, then?"

"Yeah, she's the next stop."

"And you came here first because...?"

"Because I don't have a flashlight, babe." Lance winks. Keith freezes a moment—right, pet names are probably still a little weird—but then just rolls his eyes. Okay. They head over to Pidge's cubicle.

"I hate youuuu," Pidge groans when Lance nudges her awake.

"Early bird gets the worm, Pidgey, up and at 'em. The power's out."

"Whyyy," she mumbles.

"If I knew, I wouldn't be bothering you."

Pidge lurches up to sitting, eyes squinted and hair an absolute disaster. "Fuck you," she says. "So much."

"Maybe later. Seriously, wake up, the power is out and we gotta investigate. No, it isn't Lotor," he adds when she opens her mouth.

"Can't you ever wake me up with good news?" she grumbles.

"If it were good news I'd let you sleep," he says with a grin, and offers her a hand. She takes it and he pulls her up, and she yawns into her hand.

"I'll go see what the scouts have to say," she says, and shuffles away.

"Need a light?" Lance calls after her.

"I'm good!" she calls back.

"Now what?" asks Keith.

"Now we go explore the basement. Or maybe there's a panel on this floor somewhere. Do you have any idea where the electrical stuff would be in an office building?"

Keith frowns thoughtfully. "Near the elevators?"

"As good a guess as any. Let's check it out."

They make their way to the elevators—rarely used, especially now that the civilians are gone—and look around. Lance pokes around the walls, looking for something that might be a doorway while Keith helpfully lights the way.

"Here," Lance says, tugging on a panel. "I think this—can you help me with this? My arm's fucked."

"Sure." Keith edges in, carefully keeping his lit hand away from them both. They tug on the panel together, and it comes open suddenly, making them both stumble back. "What happened to your arm?"

"Um. You."

"Oh."

Moving on. Lance peers into the space they've opened, finds something that might be an electrical box, cracks it open. Nothing looks particularly out of order, as far as he can tell.

"Well, I'm no electrician, but I don't think the problem is here," he says finally.

"Then where is it?"

"That's the million dollar question, isn't it? Let's find out what the scouts have to say."

They head around the corner to the lobby, which is awash in flashlight beams. It makes it tricky to locate Pidge in all the shifting light, especially without her wings, but he manages and tugs Keith along with him.

"Pidge!" he calls. "Any news?"

She turns as they approach. "Bad," she says grimly. "The whole city's out."

"Some problem with the power plant?"

"That's the thing. The nearest power plant was evacuated a while ago. Our power was rerouted from outside the city, so it's not that."

Lance sucks in a breath. "So something's happened outside the city? Or it's just the connection?"

"Well..." Pidge runs a hand through her hair, which does absolutely nothing to flatten it. "I think it might just be off."

"Why?" Keith asks.

"Is 'the Association hates us' a good enough answer?" she responds wryly. "I mean, we already predicted they might pull us out, and it's not like we haven't been dragging our feet bringing them Shiro back like they asked. Like, we haven't exactly been the most obedient lately, and now we're paying for it." She gestures into the dark lobby. Lance's eyes follow the gesture.

"I guess we should've seen this coming," he says.

She shrugs. "Power is something we take for granted," she points out. "I'm surprised they thought of it at all. But some scouts have reported seeing generators around, so, whether it's a mistake or not, we'll have a short term solution, at least. Most of our supplies are non-perishable, so all we really need is a few fridges and a microwave or two. A couple lights here and there. I guess the hunters still have phones to charge, but it's not like the rest of us do."

"So it's not actually an emergency," says Keith.

"Minor emergency," Pidge corrects. "And the generators will only last us as long as we can find gas for them. Like I said, short term solution."

"So we need to get the power back on," says Lance.

"Or, y'know, defeat Zarkon and banish the demons for good. That's the real long term solution."

"Exactly!" Keith says, like there's been an actual argument about this.

"Well, we're working on it, aren't we?" says Lance. "Pidge, send someone to check on Coran, and then go back to bed. There's not much we can do till morning, I think."

"I wanna double-check that it really is that it's off and that something _didn't_ happen to the plant or connection or anything," she says. "I've got scouts investigating now. But yeah, I'm going back to sleep as soon as I get the chance."

"Good." Lance yawns. "Wake me if you find anything."

"Night-night, Pops." She mock salutes and turns back to the scouts. Lance gestures to Keith.

"Back to bed, man, let's go."

"Glad I was useful," Keith says drily.

"The most," Lance says, patting him on the back. Keith walks him back to his cubicle and pauses there.

"Lance," he says. "About your arm—I'm sorry."

"Dude." Lance really doesn't want to do this now. He puts his hands on Keith's shoulders and looks him in the eye. "It's fine, yeah? I'm sorry, you're sorry, we're both sorry. Your fingers—that was me, right?"

Keith glances down at his hand. "Yeah."

"So we're even."

Keith gives a kind of reluctant smirk. "That's kind of fucked."

"Everything's fucked, babe. Go to sleep, okay?"

"Yeah," Keith says—he doesn't freeze at the name this time—and Lance lets him go. "Goodnight, Lance."

"Night, Keith."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> imagine if things went right and then didnt immediately go wrong again? wild


	17. and our kingdom is gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [run to you - pentatonix](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sp7PS_UN8Lo)
> 
> hi... im not dead...

Lance gets maybe an hour more sleep before Pidge is shaking him awake.

"We heard from Coran," she says the moment he opens his eyes. "It's happening."

"What's happening?" he mumbles.

"The Association finally got fed up with us," she says. "We're villains now, Ice."

Villains.

Huh.

Lance kind of thinks he should feel more strongly about that. Maybe he's just tired.

"Cool," he says eventually. "We didn't even give them Lotor."

"Yeah, well, probably not a good idea for us to drop him off at the nearest headquarters personally. Besides, they declared him a villain too."

Lance sits up slowly. "Wasn't he already?"

"I mean, he claimed to be. But he's Zarkon's son, so he was probably just saying that."

"So... Zarkon has declared his own son a villain for real, is what's happening."

"Apparently."

He frowns. "He hasn't been told so, has he?"

"Nope. I came straight to you," she says. "Bargaining chip?"

"Yeah. Dunno what for, yet." Lance shrugs. "Better to leave the possibility open. Leave him locked up for now, but we should have Allura heal his shoulder. No point in being cruel about it."

"Easy enough. So what are we doing about the villain thing?"

_I'm not awake enough for this,_ Lance thinks.

"Team meeting," he says. "Now that we're free to do whatever we want, we gotta take advantage, but I dunno yet how exactly."

"Should I wake everyone?" She grins.

"What time is it?"

"Five-ish."

"Jesus. No, let them sleep, we've got a couple hours to spare, I think." Lance runs a hand through his hair. "If you've got things sorted out, you might as well go back to bed, get a little more rest. I think it's gonna be a busy day."

She shrugs. "I don't mind staying up."

"Pidge."

"Okay, Mom, geez." She rolls her eyes. "I bet you're getting up now, aren't you?"

"Unfortunately. Do the scouts know?"

"Nope."

"I'll break the news, then. How many do you think will stick around?"

"Maybe half. Probably a third. Some of them are loyal, but most are just…here. Y'know?"

He sighs. "Yeah. I know." He reluctantly crawls out of bed. "Go sleep."

"Yessir."

She goes, and so Lance's day begins. He doubts it'll be a good one.

* * *

As predicted, near two-thirds of the scouts clear out—or pack up with the clear intention of doing so—when Lance breaks the news. He supposes he'll have to tell the hunters as well, but Nyma finds him first.

"Ice!" she calls to him. "We're being pulled out."

He blinks. "By who?"

Nyma shrugs. "The government? I wouldn't just leave like this if I could help it, but they're the ones paying us, you know? They say jump..."

"You ask how high, I get it." He runs a hand through his hair. He kind of figured they'd end up leaving, but god are they losing people fast. "You clearing out this morning, then?"

"By afternoon at the latest, I expect," she says with a nod. "We tried not to settle in too much, so it won't take long. Did the power go out, or something, by the way? Why are we in the dark? It's barely dawn."

"Yeah, we're working on it. Long story," Lance says, deciding it's probably safer for her—for all the hunters—if she doesn't know what precisely has happened.

She doesn't question it, though, just nods and holds out her hand to shake. "Good luck, then. And with Shiro, too."

"Yeah, thanks." He shakes her hand. "Stay safe out there."

"You too," she says, like it's within the realm of possibility. "It's been fun, Ice. Bye."

"Bye," he says, and she heads back upstairs to get the hunters ready to leave, presumably, taking with them any damn hope they had of keeping the demons in check.

Well, he's got bigger fish to fry now, he supposes. Though how they'll get at Zarkon is still a mystery, frankly, particularly now that he's prematurely ruined their plans.

He'll just have to play it by ear, like he always does. That's why he's in charge; that's what he's _good_ at. Zarkon's gonna wish he picked some other world or whatever to harass when Lance is through with him. Hell yeah.

Haha, they are so fucked.

"Pull it together," Lance mutters to himself, and turns to face the bustling lobby again. Most of the people here are leaving but he can make this work, goddamnit. Get the generators, hook them up, wake the team, make a plan. He's got this.

It isn't long before a couple teams of scouts return with generators. Most of them then leave, but at least the generators appear to be in good condition, and there's a few gas cans to go with them. Finally some bit of luck.

Finding a place to put them where they won't suffocate everyone with fumes is another problem, but he and the handful of scouts that volunteer to help work out a ventilation system—in other words, hunting down some fans and opening the windows—and by the time 7 am rolls around, they've got a couple of fridges running again and are in the process of cramming their remaining perishables into them.

"This is... something," Shiro says when he wanders into the first floor kitchen in the middle of this process.

"We're in a state of flux," Lance responds, shoving a container of something into a space it's really too big for.

"Okay...."

Lance gives up on his container and turns, sighing.

"The power's out, all across the city," he says, gesturing to the rumbling generator in the next room. "Zarkon has apparently disowned his son. Aaand we're all villains now."

Shiro goes pale. "No."

"Unfortunately, yes," Lance says. "The Association finally got fed up with us, apparently. But hey, now we can do whatever we want."

Shiro doesn't respond. His look has turned vacant, and when Lance looks closer, he can see he's shaking.

"Shiro?" he asks. Still no response.

What the hell. Are the fumes getting to him? Lance sniffs the air—he can't smell anything, and it would be affecting him too, anyway, so why…. Oh.

"Is it... is it because I said we're villains?" Lance asks. Still no response from Shiro, but either way, it's probably better to get him away from the staring scouts. So he puts his hands on Shiro's shoulders and gently backs him out of the kitchen and into an empty office, lit only by the growing daylight. Shiro seems to regain something of himself when Lance pushes him down into the chair, because he suddenly grips Lance's wrists tightly.

"I can't do this again," he says breathlessly. "I can't do it. I can't do it."

"You're not—this isn't the same, Shiro," Lance says quickly—so he was right the second time. "You're not alone this time, you have us, and no one that comes after us—if _anyone_ does—is gonna shoot first and ask questions later. You hear me? You're under our protection, and there's no one out there who won't think twice about going up against us."

"They—this isn't—I'm _not a villain,_ not _anymore,_ I _never wanted to be_ —"

"Shiro! I know, I know you aren't a villain," Lance says quickly. Shiro's grip is tight enough to be painful. "The Association is just calling us that because they don't like us. That doesn't make it true, yeah? Breathe, man. In, and out. In, and out."

Shiro breathes in, and breathes out. His grip loosens slightly.

"I can't do that again," he repeats.

"And you won't have to," Lance tells him. "I promise. Just because they call us villains doesn't mean we gotta act like it. Listen, you keep doing what you've been doing, you keep fighting demons and helping us, as far as I'm concerned, you're a hero."

Shiro blinks at him. "Me?"

"Yes, you. You've saved people, haven't you? You're a hero, Shiro."

"Yes!" Hunk suddenly appears in the doorway. "Shiro's a hero—sorry, I only overheard, like, half of that. But Lance is right, Shiro, you're a good guy."

Shiro doesn't seem to know what to say to that. Lance gently frees his wrists and steps back.

"Hunk, why don't you take over here? I'll fill you in on the situation later if Shiro doesn't feel up to it. Unless Pidge is awake?"

Hunk shrugs. "Haven't seen her," he says as he edges into the office. "Does it have anything to do with why the lights are all off?"

"Yeah, the power's out. Like I said, I'll fill you in. In the meantime, work your magic." Lance gestures at Shiro, who still seems a little dazed. "Shiro, you're in good hands. You guys come find me when you're ready, okay?"

"Sure thing." Hunk gives him a thumbs up, and Shiro nods just slightly, and Lance slips away. If only every crisis was so easily solved. Though, it probably isn't actually solved. He wonders if being a villain is sufficiently traumatizing to cause lasting issues—in Shiro's case, probably.

They'll probably all have issues, once all this is over. Assuming they survive, anyway.

_Think positive, Lance._ He'll have to wait on that team meeting for a bit, but he can start thinking in the meantime. Plotting. There's gotta be a way out of this; he just has to find it.

* * *

"So," Allura says. "Let me get this straight. We've lost all our hunters, the power is out, we've been declared _villains,_ and to top it all off, we still have all our spawn points to deal with?"

"Yeah, pretty much," says Lance.

The team falls silent. They're in a conference room again, but this time Shiro's at the table with them; he's still pale, but it's obvious that Hunk is holding his hand under the table, so he'll probably be okay.

"Our priority is figuring out how to get Zarkon after us personally, if that helps," Lance adds, but all it does is make Pidge groan and drop her forehead to the table.

"The Lotor plan is a no-go, then?" Allura asks.

"Yup. They've declared him a villain, too. Could be just publicity, but either way..." Lance shrugs. "Can't really turn him in if we're villains too."

"Hey, so, stop me if this sounds insane," Hunk begins, "but I've been thinking..."

This is already music to Lance's ears. "Yeah?"

"So like, the whole powers thing is connected to the demons, right? Like, Ulaz basically said Lotor had powers because he's half demon, right?"

"That might be a stretch," says Allura.

"No, listen. Pidge, how does the demonic energy signature compare to supers?"

"No one knows," Pidge says slowly. "It's classified."

"And the sensors?"

"Are kept under strict supervision by the Association," Pidge fills in, stronger. "And they went after the villain ones real doggedly, there aren't any left. So if they can sense demons too, we don't know."

"Uh-huh, uh-huh," says Hunk. "Now, do you remember what happened when that demon bit Shiro's arm off?"

"It'd be hard to forget," says Lance with a shudder.

"The demon choked," says Pidge.

"Okay so, what if it didn't choke? What if it was the restraint tech that killed it?"

There's a pause. Shiro looks down at his hands, one flesh and one metal.

"I'm guessing you didn't keep the arm," says Keith.

"It was lodged in a class five's throat," Lance points out. "And then they refused to fix it or replace it anyway, so none of us thought to retrieve it."

"What happened to the body, then? Is it still there?"

"What little remains are left after combustion are collected and brought to the Association for research—supposedly," Allura says. "Unless a scout thought to remove it from the corpse, it's back in the Association's hands."

Lance leans forward. "Where?"

Allura shrugs. "I don't know much about the process, honestly, I only heard about it from someone who was injured while transporting a batch. There should be a warehouse nearby for storage before they move samples on to headquarters; the scouts would know, I think."

"It might have been shipped out already," says Keith.

"It might not have been," she says with a shrug.

"Wait, back up," says Pidge. "How does this help us, Hunk? I mean, it's all well and good to have a new way to kill demons, but that's not exactly our biggest concern right now."

"I haven't gotten to the best part yet," Hunk says, holding up a finger. "'Cause if all that stuff is true, and Zarkon or his demon friends opened the spawn points, then they probably run on demonic energy, right? So maybe the arm could _close_ them. Or at least, like, interfere." He grins. "We solve the demon problem _and_ piss off Zarkon. Two birds, one stone. Or arm, as it were. It’s a long shot, but the evidence is there."

Lance sits back. "Hunk, you're a genius." Goddamn, if that will actually work...

"I try," Hunk says, folding his arms and leaning back in his chair.

"Then we need that arm A.S.A.P.," says Keith. "Pidge, have the scouts ever mentioned—"

"No, but I'm gonna go ask right now," she says as she stands. "Stay put." She hurries out.

Shiro, meanwhile, is still frowning at his hand—just at his new prosthetic, now.

"Shiro," Lance says. "You good?"

"...Yeah," Shiro responded hoarsely. "Wish someone'd thought of it before."

"Sorry, man." Hunk covers his metal hand with his own. "I wouldn't have had the clues to figure it out if this all hadn't happened."

"I guess not." Shiro's still frowning, but at least he looks up now. "Will the arm even still work? It got pretty... mangled. And burned."

"I think it's as much weird demonic magic as technology, honestly," says Lance. "But either way, I'm sure our resident geniuses can figure out how to recreate it. They can do basically anything."

"Aww, thanks, Ice," says Hunk.

"I can help," offers Keith. "I know some stuff."

Lance smirks. "You sure do, Ke-Phoenix. Fuck, I keep doing that."

Keith grins back. "You know, if we're technically villains, we don't have to use hero names anymore."

Lance sits up and slaps his palms against the table. " _Shit, you're right._ Everyone spill, let's hear it. Team bonding."

Hunk raises his hand. "My real name is Afu."

"That's cute, I like it. Hi Afu, I'm Lance."

" _Lance?_ Your name is _Lance?_ For real?"

"It's true, I've seen his license," says Keith. "I'm Keith."

"Okay, yeah, Ice—I mean, Lance—has almost said your name enough times that I kinda figured."

Keith shrugs. "It's a common name, anyway."

"Who else? Allura," says Lance. "What's yours?"

"Lucy," she says.

He tilts his head. "I can see it. And we all already know Shiro's name."

Shiro shrugs.

"What do you think Pidge's name is? My money's on, like, Heather."

"I vote Theresa," says Hunk—Afu.

"I think she's a Caroline," says Keith. "Or a Catherine."

"Hey, no double guessing. Shiro, you got anything?"

He shrugs. "Uh... Mary?"

"Going classic, huh? How about you, Llllucy?"

"I think this is silly," she responds, but there's a twitch at the corner of her mouth.

"Oh, yeah? I bet you've got a name, though." Lance winks.

Allura rolls her eyes. "...Natasha."

"There we go."

Pidge chooses this moment to return, bursting panting back into the conference room. "They know where it is! The warehouse, I mean. They can show us the way there."

"Thank fuck," says Lance. "Also, what's your name?"

She blinks at him. "What."

"We don't need our hero names anymore," Hunk explains. "I'm Afu, and this is Keith, and Lucy, and Lance."

"...Oh," she says. "Um. Katie."

Keith pumps his fist in the air. "Got it!"

"It was your second guess, it doesn't count," says Lance.

Pidge looks at them drily, and then just shakes her head. "Anyway, we should go, like, now. We don't have a lot of time in general but if we can't find the arm we'll need a new plan."

"Right-o." Lance stands. "Let's go, team."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yyyeah so this fic (and the sixth planet if any of yall read that one too) are on hiatus for the rest of november bc nanowrimo. see you in december!!


	18. my blazing head, my freezing heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [disappear here - bad suns](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IuX8oDbIlNE)
> 
> im back!!

The warehouse is, quite literally, a repurposed warehouse, large and cold, and despite that everything here has been burned to a crisp already—or maybe because of it—the smell is horrendous. Hunk taps out after less than a minute, hand clamped over his mouth, and even iron-stomached Pidge is looking a little green around the gills. Lance pulls the collar of his shirt up over his nose and deals with it.

"You look ridiculous," Keith says, like he isn't pressing his cuff to his nose.

"Can't afford to lose my breakfast," Lance replies, muffled. "We have any idea where in here this thing would be?"

"They sort by class," Pidge says shortly, like she doesn't want to keep her mouth open longer than necessary. She gestures further into the warehouse, down along the loose piles of corpses. There's still power here, Lance notes, which unfortunately illuminates the burnt and rotting corpses around them very, very well.

"Then hopefully this will be quick," says Allura. She hasn't gone as far as to cover her nose but her face is pinched and pale, and Shiro's in about the same state. They hurry in the direction Pidge pointed.

The piles get smaller as the demons get bigger, but the class four pile is still big enough to block their view of any possible class fives beyond. It's also big enough to hide behind, which is why when Lance hears a faint murmur of conversation he stops and throws out an arm to make the rest of his team stop too.

"—Still think we could've waited outside," he catches.

"Yeah, well, I don't wanna be here either," comes a muffled response.

"Dunno why anyone'd come here," says another voice, louder and female, one Lance thinks he recognizes. "We're wastin' our time."

Someone hushes her, then, and the group on the other side of the pile goes silent. Lance glances back to his team, and then creeps around the pile as far as he dares, trying to see without being seen. Allura catches his arm.

She gestures meaningfully around the pile, then taps her wrist—right, Shiro gave her Chronophobia's power. He nods.

In the blink of an eye she's barely moved, but her face is suddenly grim.

"Heroes," she mouths. Lance's stomach drops. He pulls his shirt off his face.

"Demon?" he mouths back. She nods. Well, that's something, at least.

A hand covers the back of his neck, then, and there's a faint tingle. He shivers and turns to find Shiro, who points upwards. He mouths something that Lance doesn't quite get, until Shiro mimes falling rain at the same time—sprinklers. This warehouse has fire sprinklers. He frowns, trying to figure how that'll help; it makes his power go a little easier if he has something to freeze, sure, but it's not like he can control where it lands—

"Aquarion?" he asks, barely a breath, and Shiro nods. Lance looks at his hands and grins—he can feel it now that he knows, the second power, just like they'd discussed. Oh man, he is gonna _fuck shit up._

Except they're apparently up against _other heroes,_ so, only minor shit-fucking-up. Really what they need is to temporarily disable them, at worst; at best, not interact at all. He gestures to his team and points back, and they go hide behind the class three pile instead.

"Allura," he says quietly. "Do you know who was there?"

"Mirage and Frostbite I recognized for sure," she says. "Bandage, as well. I think the other two were Lynx and Midknight."

Five. That's a full team.

"They sent _Midknight_ against us?" Keith hisses. "They can't be serious. We're not _that_ big a threat, we haven’t _done_ anything yet."

"I only met him once, so I can't be sure," Allura responds. "He wasn't exactly using his powers."

Lance rubs his forehead. "Allura—Lucy. How long can you keep the time thing going? Would you be able to sneak in and retrieve the arm by yourself?"

"If it were simply lying there, yes," she says. "But I didn’t see it, and even if it _is_ still within the demon, it’s possible the arm might be fused to the remains, if it’s intact at all. Demons burn very hot."

"So we’d need to pry it out—if it’s even still there." Dammit.

"We shouldn't have let Hunk leave," Pidge moans. "He's strongest."

"Even so, we'd be seen."

"Okay but, the first time we fought him, Lotor froze time for me too, once," Lance says quickly. "Like he let me into his time bubble to gloat. You should be able to take someone with you."

Allura frowns. "I don't know _how._ This power is still new to me."

"Maybe a distraction would work?" Shiro suggests.

"Like what?" asks Keith.

"Like if you set a pile of demons on fire." He points deeper into the warehouse, further from the door and their target. "That should set the fire sprinklers off, too."

"It's too cold to get rained on," Keith says with a pout. "It's not exactly gonna help my powers, either."

"No, but I just gave Ice hydrokinesis."

"And my powers are better suited to trapping people nonlethally than yours, babe," Lance finishes, nudging Keith's shoulder. "Stick close to me and I'll keep you dry. I think it's worth pointing out though that as much as the cold will help me, it'll help Frostbite, too. And we gotta be careful about Mirage tricking us. So it's better if we don't interact with them at all."

Shiro nods. "Hence the distraction."

Allura bites her lip. "What if the demon is itself one of Mirage's illusions?"

"Don't even go there," Lance says. "We have no choice but to assume it's real, and it sounded like they didn’t know what they were guarding, anyway. Okay, so: Keith will go set something on fire—actually, Shiro, you can too, right? And you have other powers so getting wet won't disable you."

"I can do it." Shiro nods.

"Okay, so _Shiro_ goes and sets some demons on fire, the rest of us hope that the supers around the corner take the bait and investigate, when they clear out we go get the arm, and then we all book it outta here. Sound good?"

"What if they don't take the bait?" Pidge points out. "And what am I supposed to be doing, here? I'm stronger than I look, sure, but the rest of you have more leverage, probably, and four is a lot to cram around a single demon's throat even if it _is_ a class five."

"I could give you a power to help slow them down," Shiro offers. "I've still got Rebound's force fields, and I have these... tree grenade things."

She gives him a look. "Tree grenade things?"

He nods. "They're like seeds, and after you throw them they sprout into trees after a minute or so. You can't control when, but if you're careful they're good for an ambush."

Lance nods, too. "I saw him use it on a bunch of demons a while back, it's surprisingly effective."

Pidge frowns, and for a moment Lance thinks she's going to refuse. But then she says, "Intriguing," and holds out her hand, and Shiro clasps it for a moment.

"Okay?" Lance says as Pidge pulls her hand back and examines it.

"Yeah," she says. "Okay, let's do this."

"Okay." Lance looks to Shiro. "Go, Shiro. Once you've got the fire going, just head straight out and warn Hunk."

"Will do," Shiro says, and slips away.

"Are you sure you don't want him as backup?" Keith asks.

"It's better to keep him out of it," Lance says quietly, once he's sure Shiro's out of earshot. "For one, he's still pretty twisted up about this villain thing, and anyway, we want people to believe we're still heroes and the Association is wrong, right? Having him fight heroes alongside us won't do us any favors, no matter how nonviolent we are about it."

He shrugs. "If you say so."

Lance looks to the other two. "Any other complaints? Once we get into position we gotta be silent."

"Nah," says Pidge, and Allura shakes her head.

"Then let's go," he says, and leads the way back around the pile of dead class threes. They creep back up to the class four pile, getting as close as they can stand for cover.

Soon smoke rises behind them, and then a voice behind the pile says, "What is that?"

Lance holds up a hand: wait.

"What does it _look_ like it is?" Mirage says flatly.

"I mean, obviously it's smoke—"

"They must be here. They do have Phoenix."

"Yeah, but Phoenix don't smoke 'cause he ain't actually burning."

"So he set something on fire?"

"Or maybe it's some demon shit. Wouldn't be surprised if they go up'n flames a second time."

A heavy sigh. "We ought to investigate, either way. I'm not keen on waiting inside a burning warehouse."

Right on cue, the sprinkler system goes off, and there are cries of dismay as water rains down on the party beyond the pile. Keith shuffles closer to Lance; Lance looks up, pokes around inside himself for the second power.

They were right; it _does_ feel different, but not a lot. Just a different flavor. It takes too much concentration to bend every falling drop away from them, but he gathers some water to keep above him and Keith like a particularly ironic umbrella, and that works well enough; he extends it to the two girls as well, and they all huddle closer together as wet footsteps sound nearby.

"Stay here, Frostbite," someone says, and most of the footsteps fade. Damn, they _had_ to leave the other ice guy, didn't they?

Lance looks back to Allura, nods forward. Allura nods too, taking a step forward; then she's suddenly much damper and facing him again.

"Just Frostbite," she whispers, barely audible above the sprinklers.

"Pidge, distract?" he whispers. "With the tree thing?"

She nods, then creeps around the pile in the other direction, wings folded above her head for shelter. She tosses a few seed things out across the warehouse towards the next row of corpse piles, then hurries back.

"Is someone there?" Frostbite calls. The team exchanges frantic looks.

"Go!" Lance whispers, pointing back the way Pidge came. "I'll distract him."

The girls go. Keith hesitates.

"Go!" Lance says again. Keith huffs and kisses his cheek—quick, barely even a brush of lips—whispers, "Stay safe," and goes, too.

So with an aching heart, Lance tosses his “umbrella” aside, stands, and walks around the pile.

"Hey, man," he calls, and Frostbite spins to face him.

"Icicle?" Frostbite slumps slightly. "Damn, you're actually here."

"Uh, yeah, this is kind of part of my jurisdiction," Lance points out. "What're _you_ doing here? Didn't think that, after everything, they'd make you a scout."

"I'm not a scout," Frostbite says. He's shifting in place, fidgeting from foot to foot. The girls and Keith are just creeping around the edge of the pile now. "I'm kind of a guard, I guess."

Lance chuckles and hopes it doesn't sound as nervous as he feels. "We kind of all are, aren't we? Guarding civilians and all. They post you nearby? You should've swung by, said hi."

Frostbite grimaces a moment; yeah, that wasn’t Lance’s best diversion. The team creeps behind him. He sighs.

"You... you know they're calling you villains now, right?" he says. "The Association. They said you turned against them."

Alright, so they're actually gonna talk about it. Maybe Lance can work with this, though. Maybe he can turn this around.

"I know," he says. "I know they said that, but nothing's actually changed."

"They sent us here," Frostbite points out. The trees finally sprout behind him, unnoticed.

"Us?"

"Yeah—me and Mirage and a few others. Lynx. Midknight—you know Midknight, right? He hasn't been the same after that injury, they're kind of scraping the bottom of the barrel, here." He gives a kind of nervous laugh, fingers twisting in the hem of his shirt. "Our healer is even named _Bandage._ I mean, I know there's a lot of healers, but seriously."

"Well," says Lance. "It's descriptive." The other three are just reaching the demon now.

"That's _all_ it is," Frostbite returns. "But seriously, why are you here? They said you might show up, and if you did we should stop you, but..."

Lance frowns at him. Okay, so the Association realized they might figure out the arm thing? And, what, had enough time to form a team and send them out here—but not to retrieve the arm themselves? Unless they have already...

But just by showing up here they've proved they know what the arm can do. Shit.

On the other hand, though, if the Association was worried about that, maybe they're on the right track.

"...I don't know why they would think that," Lance says. "I'm only here because the scouts told us there were supers down here. I came to check it out." He shrugs and wonders why the scouts _didn’t_ tell—but then, maybe the ones who knew have left.

Frostbite tilts his head. "We told the scouts not to tell you."

Lance rocks back on his heels. "Yeah, probably anyone that would've listened to that is gone by now. We _were_ declared villains, after all. Some people like to keep their reputations intact." He's pretty thoroughly soaked at this point—they both are—and he resists a shiver. He's always been susceptible to the cold; it comes with his power. The wetness doesn’t bother him as much as it used to, though, so that’s something.

"Thought you would've been one of those people," says Frostbite. When Lance glances over at the demon, Pidge and Keith are just stepping back, and _yes,_ Allura is holding the arm out in front of her, making faces—it’s a bit mangled and covered in burnt demon bits, but at least it’s _here._

"I was," says Lance, a little distantly. Now they just have to escape. "But I'm just trying to do what's right, y'know?"

Frostbite sighs. He looks incredibly disappointed at that; he’s gripping the hem of his shirt so hard Lance thinks he's going to rip it.

"They said you'd say that," he says, and suddenly he's shooting ice at Lance's feet. Lance scrambles backward but gets caught in the blast, ice closing hard around his ankles—shit, he can't control it, it's not _his_ ice. Fuck.

"Come on, dude, we don't have to do this," he pleads.

Frostbite turns to look at the demon—at the frozen tableau of Pidge wiping her hands on her pants, Keith halfway to starting towards Lance, Allura still holding Shiro's old arm as far from herself as possible. He turns back to Lance.

"Don't we?" he says. "Sorry, Icicle. I didn't want to do this, either."

He turns back towards the rest of the team—hell no, Lance is _not_ letting him touch them. He calls on his new power and the water at their feet swirls.

"I'm sorry, too," he says, and sweeps Frostbite right off his feet. He bends awkwardly to touch a hand to the ice at his feet, to spread his own ice along the wet floor closer to his unfortunate target.

"Hey!" comes a shout. The rest of the other supers are returning from the fire Shiro set; with the ceiling in the way, Pidge's trees have grown out instead of up and now form a pretty solid barrier between two rotting piles of demons. It'll slow them down, but not for long.

“What have you _done?_ ” Frostbite shouts as he scrambles back to his feet. Lance doesn’t have an answer anymore—he just wraps the water around Frostbite’s legs and freezes it, keeping him as trapped as he himself is. Pidge is sprinting for the door; Allura is already out of sight. And Keith all but collides with Lance, swinging around behind him and holding onto his shoulders for balance, making them both sway dangerously. A sharp heat grows at Lance's calves.

"Ow." He blocks a blast from Frostbite with a wall of water that crackles sharply at the blow.

"Sorry," Keith mutters. Then the heat stops and Keith wrenches him backwards with an arm around his waist, practically lifting him out of the ice. Lance stumbles back into him, they regain their balance, and as Mirage comes into sight around a far pile, they start running together.

“Icicle!” Frostbite shouts, but Lance doesn’t look back. He plows a path through the water for them, pushing aside the slippery layer on the ground that's been polluted with rotten demon slime—yuck—and then they're bursting out the door where the rest of the team waits.

"Let's go!" Pidge shouts, taking off with a great wet flapping of wings. Allura holds the arm up to her and she flies away with it as the rest take off at top speed. Lynx isn't a tracker—he thinks—but he's bound to be fast; when Lance glances back, though, he sees no signs of pursuit.

They're going to have to find a new hideout, he realizes, if the Association is _actually_ going to send supers against them. And the scouts—he'll miss their support but it would be all too easy to drop a spy in their midst, so they'll have to leave them behind too, or at least limit contact. Leave them in their office building and hide elsewhere.

They're on the run now, then. Like actual villains. And the Association will know soon enough Shiro’s been spreading his powers around, because Lance went and used Aquarion’s in front of Frostbite.

First order of business is getting back safely, though. Getting their things. Showering, if they have the time. And then they can find a new place to hide, where they can figure out that arm without the Association interfering.

And then they can take the city back, and take Zarkon down, somehow, hopefully.

First things first, though.


	19. what i've got, and what i'm not, and who i am

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [i won't give up - jason mraz](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TdN5GyTl8K0)
> 
> wow... art! theres art again!! its by [kei!](http://amarukei.tumblr.com/) its a gif!!! enjoy it!!!

Lance is so wrapped up in his thoughts that he doesn't realize until they're all stumbling, panting, through the office building door, that Keith is holding his hand.

It felt so natural it didn't even register, even after all this time—of course, he was distracted by other things anyway. But Keith doesn't let go yet, even when Lance squeezes his hand and meets his eyes, so he doesn't either. Pidge and Allura both send him knowing looks when they notice but whatever. The Association kicked them out so they don't have to follow their rules anymore. Rules like no relationships.

And he’s so terrified of losing Keith again, but it’s not like anything they do or don’t do could make that hurt less.

It's this thought that makes him pull Keith aside to the lounge while the rest continue on to claim the handful of showers in the building.

"Keith," he says, and then realizes he doesn't actually know what to say. "Um."

"Can I see your arm?" Keith asks, and then frowns. "Sorry, I just—I've been thinking about it since you mentioned it this morning."

"Are you sure you want to?" Lance asks uncertainly. He still gets a pit in his stomach when he sees Keith's missing fingers, after all.

"Yeah," Keith says though, no hesitation, so Lance self-consciously sheds his wet jacket—wincing at how the motion stretches his arm—and then pulls off his shirt halfway too. He can tell the exact moment Keith sees the scar because he goes pale and still as a statue, staring.

Lance can't blame him; he doesn't like to look at it either. It's an ugly, twisted thing, the burn scar, the skin from his elbow up to his shoulder melted and reformed wrong—puffy here, splotchy red there. Even around it where the damage was less his skin is discolored, several shades too pale. It twists and stretches stiffly with him when he moves the arm, pulling at itself like it's something that lives on his skin instead of being part of it.

"Shit," Keith whispers hoarsely. He lifts a hand to touch—the hand that's missing fingers—but hesitates.

Lance waits, unmoving, so finally Keith does reach the rest of the way, brushing his fingers against the worst of it. Lance can barely feel it through the damaged tissue, but he does, if muted.

And then Keith does something Lance doesn't expect: he leans forward and presses his lips to Lance's scarred shoulder, firmly, pointedly. He whispers, "I'm sorry," against it. And then he asks, "Do you want to see mine?"

"Yours?" Lance's voice cracks on the single word, embarrassingly. He's breathing way too hard.

In response, Keith steps back, and pulls his shirt up to expose the side of his waist. The smooth skin there is marred by small bumps of scar tissue arrayed in a sort of lopsided sunburst. A puncture wound, Lance realizes, sucking in a breath. From one of his icicles.

"There's another one up here," Keith says, placing a hand on his own chest, off center. Lance reaches out slowly, touches Keith's hand there—places it over top and tries not to feel and _fails._ He presses his other hand to his mouth to muffle a sob.

"It's okay, Lance," Keith says quickly, dropping his shirt and pulling him closer, their hands pressed between them. "It's okay."

"I killed you," Lance chokes, because it isn't okay and it never will be.

"I'm alive," Keith says, though, and Lance can feel his breath against the side of his jaw. He tries to match it—in, and out. In, and out.

When he's got it under control, when the knot in his throat has loosened, Keith takes Lance's hand and places it on his waist, pushing his shirt up so his scar is warm against Lance's palm. Then he reaches up to cup Lance's face and brushes his thumbs against his cheeks—damp from the sprinklers, still, but there are tears there too.

Keith looks a little older now, up close. Tired, a few stress lines permanently carved into his forehead from all his frowning. He's so fucking beautiful, though, with his overgrown hair and acne-scarred nose and chapped lips and all of it, all of it is perfect.

"I love you," Lance whispers, because he still does, even now, after everything.

"I love you, too," Keith says, and kisses him. It’s not a deep kiss—just a simple press of lips, but Lance leans into it anyway, wrapping his free arm, his good arm, tight around Keith's back. This feels like home, like everything he's lost.

When they part, eventually, Keith leans his forehead against Lance's shoulder and lowers his hand to Lance's damaged upper arm, gentle but not hesitant anymore. Lance rubs his thumb slowly over the puncture scar. It's a kind of acceptance, he thinks, or at least a step on the journey.

"Does it hurt all the time?" Keith asks.

"Mostly only if I overuse it," says Lance, "or if I stretch it too far. Yours?"

"My fingers do sometimes. Phantom pain."

"What do you tell people when they ask about it?"

Keith shrugs. "They never do."

Of course no one would ask, Lance thinks. They're heroes. Heroes get hurt. Heroes die. You don't ask why.

"Hey," Lance says softly. "I have a question."

"Yeah?"

"...Were you gonna propose?"

There's a pause, and then Keith sighs, hot breath against his scar.

"Yeah," he says, and Lance digs his fingers in harder. "Had a ring picked out and everything. Didn't get to buy it, though. I was waiting till graduation."

Lance lets out a long breath. "I would've said yes," he says, quiet in Keith's ear, and Keith's grip tightens.

Knowing what could have been doesn't hurt as much as what happened, but is made all the more bitter for it.

"Kinda surprised," Lance adds in a murmur. "I always thought I'd have to be the one to do it."

Keith shrugs. "The future was scary. I wanted to be certain about something, at least."

Lance leans back at that to look at him. "D'you think I would've left you at graduation or something?"

Keith looks away. "Well, not really. But you were... I..." He huffs and looks Lance in the eye. "You know I had a shitty childhood. I got out but... growing up like that, you don't let yourself think about the future too hard. You never know when everything's gonna get taken away and you have to start all over." He takes a deep breath and turns his gaze to their feet. "Being _with_ you was... good. It was too good. I kept wondering when it'd have to end. Because everything good in my life always _ends_." He gives a short, humorless laugh. "And it did."

"Keith..." Lance begins, but Keith shakes his head.

"Let me finish. Because I didn't want it to end, but I also... didn't know what to do if it didn't." Keith looks up, but over his shoulder, not at him. "I barely even knew what a normal life looked like anyway, and having powers complicated everything, and you were so... you could do anything. You made life look easy. I thought, if I could get you to stay, then I could figure it out—follow your lead. Even if it meant I'd be selfish for making you drag me along through life with you."

He stops to breathe, so Lance reaches up to cup his face, turning it so Keith _has_ to look at him.

"I wouldn't have seen it like that," he says. "I would've done anything for you, Keith."

"Lance..."

" _Including_ dragging you through life along with me," he adds firmly. "Wouldn't even hesitate. You're not as heavy as you think you are."

Keith finally meets his eyes, and one corner of his lips quirks up in an almost-smile.

"I think we've both got a lot more baggage to lug around now," he says.

Lance grins, slowly. "Well, we've got four arms between the two of us."

"Only eighteen fingers," Keith interjects, neutrally. "And really, three and a half arms."

And that doesn't sting so badly now, somehow.

"I think we can figure out a way to carry it all anyway," Lance says. "If you still want to try."

Keith's eyes flick between his, searching. "I thought you didn’t want to."

"I do. More than anything. I just thought we couldn’t."

"...Yeah," Keith says. "Yeah, I wanna try."

"Good," Lance says, and pulls him back in close and tight. Keith presses his face into the scar he left again, hard and warm. And it's fine. It's fine, now.

They can do this together.

* * *

Their new hideout is in the basement of some tiny retail shop that's long since been emptied out; they lay out their inflatable mattresses between rows of empty shelves with only a handful of sagging cardboard boxes for walls. Privacy isn't exactly a high priority.

Pidge and Hunk lay out Shiro's restraint on the counter upstairs to take advantage of their remaining natural light. Shiro stays downstairs, understandably uncomfortable about the situation, but Lance perches on an empty shelf to watch them work. It still kind of smells—they start by cleaning it, taking careful note of the few visible runes still etched into it, before they get to taking it apart.

"There's some kind of ring in here," Pidge says, poking around inside the upper part of the arm. "Like, bracelet size. I don't know what it's made of but it looks—"

She cuts herself off suddenly, stopping still with her hand inside the arm. She looks up slowly, around, squinting at them all.

"What's... up," she says, suddenly sounding very suspicious.

"Pidge?" Lance says. She frowns at him.

"What's Pidge?"

"Katie," Hunk says nervously. "Get your hand out of there."

"Uh, sure," she says, though she still sounds confused, and then pulls her hand out of the arm. Then she blinks.

"Oh, fuck," she says, and now she sounds like herself again. "That was really weird. But I guess I found the key part. The part that does the thing."

"The ring you were talking about?" Hunk asks, shifting the arm so he can see it. "Oh yeah, huh. So the runes are just like decoration? Or a red herring? How do we get it out without touching it?"

"That's the problem."

"Can I see?" Lance hops off the shelf and goes to join them at the counter, and Hunk turns the arm obligingly. There's a sort of round slot inside with something metallic-looking set in it, in the broken socket of the arm. It's pretty unassuming; he wouldn't have guessed it did _anything,_ let alone blocked superpowers and all related memories.

"This thing?" He points to it. "It doesn't look like anything."

"Which?" Hunk turns the arm while Lance's hand is inside it, and his finger brushes against—

* * *

Lance doesn't remember coming here or meeting these people, which probably means he overdid it last night. Not the first time. This abandoned-shop-looking place is new, though; he didn't know there was a place like this in Rochester, he only knows about that one old mental hospital or whatever, and the subway, which they still haven't actually bothered to hunt down. He's definitely gotta get on that before he graduates.

"Oops," says the guy on the other side of the counter. Funny, Lance doesn't have much of a headache or anything, just no memory of meeting this guy—one of José's friends, maybe? Weirdest hangover ever. Actually, he's probably still drunk—he does feel kind of out of it. Disoriented, at least.

"Dammit, Hunk," says the girl next to him. That's a great fucking nickname, Lance never knew José actually had interesting friends.

There are footsteps nearby, and thankfully before Lance has to come up with some excuse as to why he doesn't remember these people, Keith shows up. He looks exhausted—not a surprise, he's not big on parties—but he smiles when Lance meets his eye.

"Keith!" Lance exclaims. "What's up, babe?"

Keith blinks at him. "What?"

"D'you think it'll hurt him if I just move it?" the guy apparently named Hunk asks.

"It didn't hurt me," says the girl. "...Maybe emotionally, though, I think he's been through the ringer lately already."

Keith looks at them. "What's going on?" he asks. Wait, Keith knows these people but Lance doesn't? Damn, he definitely drank too much.

"He's touching Shiro's restraint," says the girl.

"He doesn't remember anything," says Hunk. Lance finally looks away from Keith.

"Who, me?" he says. "Yeah, no, I must've gotten hammered last night. This morning. What time is it?" He looks out the front and for the first time starts to feel like something is very wrong here. "Why is the street empty? Wait, why are we here—isn't it summer?"

There's a smack—he glances back to see Keith covering his face with his hand.

"Just get him to stop touching it," he says. "If he breaks down, I'll handle it."

"Keith?" Lance asks nervously, and Hunk shifts—

* * *

And Lance is no longer touching the restraint, and everything that's happened _since_ college returns with full clarity. He drops his head into his hands and lets out a long, slow breath.

"I hate everything," he says finally. He's been on enough trips down memory lane lately, thank you.

"Yeah, he's back," says Pidge.

"How did this even happen?" Keith moves closer, touches Lance's lifted wrists.

"It was an accident!" Hunk protests. "I didn't mean to make him touch it!"

"No harm done," says Lance. He lowers his hands and finds Keith watching him with a frown, so he adds, "Really. I'm fine. Wasn't looking to relive college today but I think I'm cried out for a while, it's fine."

Keith shrugs. "If you say so," he says, entwining his fingers with Lance's.

"Sorry," says Hunk.

"It's fine," Lance says again. A few days ago it might've destroyed him, yeah, but now he can handle it.

"Okay, so, lesson learned twice over," says Pidge. "Don't touch the metal thing."

"That's gonna make it hard to use," says Keith.

"No kidding. But at least we know it's working even if the arm isn't. If we can at least get it _out,_ maybe we can figure out _how_ it works."

"How are even gonna close the spawn points with the thing?" Lance asks. "I mean, for one, it's a bracelet, and two, we're gonna have trouble even getting close enough."

"It should kill demons too!" says Hunk. "And they must be much more sensitive to it than us, because the arm doesn't conduct it and the demon that choked on the arm couldn't have actually come in contact with it." He pauses. "Or the demon did actually just choke on it and this has all been a waste of time."

"No," says Lance. "The Association was guarding the thing for a reason. If they don't want us to have it, there must be _something_ useful about it."

"Like if we figure out how it works and use their own technology against them?" Pidge points out drily. "I mean, I want it to close the spawns, but that's not the only thing they could be afraid of."

"Hey, if Ulaz was right, disabling other supers would help the Association out, actually. If only by making it harder for them to fight back."

"Orrrr those guys were guarding something completely different to begin with!" says Hunk. "Or they knew we'd try to get the arm back and just used it to set a trap! Maybe I was wrong about everything!"

"Hunk, you're like, never wrong," says Lance.

"Thank you, Ice, but _what if I am?_ "

"Then we just gotta try it out for science," says Pidge. "We won't figure anything out by worrying about it." And with that, she takes the arm out of Hunk's hands and sets it down on the counter again. "I'm going to take this apart, and Hunk is going to help, and then we're gonna see what we have and move from there."

"That's the spirit," says Lance. "While you're doing that, me and Keith are gonna take a walk." He gestures toward the door with their linked hands, then starts back towards it, pulling a bemused Keith back with him.

Pidge looks at them flatly. "Why?"

"Reconnaissance!" He shoots her a grin and then turns around Keith, making them stumble in the doorway, and then right themselves on the way out of it. He looks around before heading down the street.

"Are we actually doing reconnaissance?" Keith asks as he falls into step beside him.

"We're not _not_ doing reconnaissance," says Lance. "No rules to say we can't hold hands while we reconnaissize, though."

"I'm pretty sure that's not a word."

" _No rules,_ Keith."

Keith snorts. They meander. It's nice, even with the faint chill in the air as winter creeps closer. They take out a few class ones and twos, too, easy enough with the two of them.

"The Association was right to fear us," Lance says after they neatly take out a small nest on their own, and Keith grins back at him. They go back to meandering, taking streets at random whenever they feel like.

And then someone lands with a thump in front of them.

"I was really hoping I wouldn't find you," says Windrunner, and there goes Lance's stomach, back to its second home in his toes.

"Aw, fuck," he says. "Not you, too."

"I should say the same to you," she says sadly. "You and Phoenix. Hey, dude."

"Hi Windy," Keith says cautiously.

There's an awkward silence.

"I guess you know why I'm here," Windrunner says finally.

"Hard not to," says Lance.

"I did try to warn you. My scout said she talked to you. I—dammit." Windy runs a hand through her already windblown hair. "Why couldn't you have prevented this? Done something to appease them—I don't want to be here, Ice."

"They were gonna do this no matter what," says Keith. "The Association has had it out for the two of us since before the Crisis." He gestures with their still-linked hands.

"They were doing everything they could to fuck us over," Lance agrees. "The whole team, Windy. Every super out there, even. We're just trying to make things right."

"How, exactly?" she says pointedly. "You're stuck in an empty city with nothing but demons for company. How are you gonna change anything?"

"Just wait and see," Lance says firmly.

"A few days, Windy," Keith says, rather more pleadingly. "Just give us a few days and we can show you."

She makes a face. "It sounds ominous when you put it like that."

"It's not. It's a good thing."

"Promise," Lance adds.

Windy sighs. "I'm going to pretend I didn't see you," she says. "But I can only get away with so much—especially now. So please—stay low. I'll try not to find you again."

With a gust of wind, she takes off, zooming away. Keith squeezes Lance's hand and then he's the one pulling them along, running through alleys in a circuitous route back to their new hideout. His face is grim.

Lance knows Windy pretty well, but Keith knows her better, and Keith is worried. It makes Lance worried, too.

They never did hear what happened to Knights Chi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> but at least they kissed...?
> 
> oh yeah and now [this drabble](http://maternalcube.tumblr.com/post/174763741599/holy-shit-i-just-found-a-drabble-set-in-my) i wrote ages ago is relevant :)


	20. it started from your arms and it's a catalyst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [strangeness and charm - florence + the machine](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YXzxQ_CH8zk)

They show up panting in the doorway as the sun is setting, and Pidge and Hunk are just starting to pack up, probably for lack of light. Both freeze at the sight of them.

"Oh god, what happened," says Pidge.

"Choir Delta is here," Keith says when Lance can't find the words. Pidge's mouth opens and shuts a few times, but Hunk is the first to speak.

"Fuck," he says.

"Yeah," says Keith.

"What do we do?"

"Avoid the situation," Lance says heavily. "For as long as we can possibly manage. Put it off."

"Windy will try to give us a few days—"

"You actually _talked_ to her?" Pidge says.

"Yes," Keith says, frowning at the interruption, "and she's going to avoid the situation as long as possible, too, but sooner or later she'll give in. We have a time limit."

"We already knew we did," Lance points out. "It's just a little more solid now."

And goddamn, he never thought Windy would actually kill them, but if Keith thinks so, then...

"Fuuuuck," Hunk says eloquently.

"Alright, guys, chop chop. Tell me you learned something from that arm since we left," Lance says, trying to brighten his tone but inevitably just sounding urgent. Hunk picks up an awkwardly shaped contraption.

"We made a sort of scepter thing to hold it from scrap bits of things—yeah, don't lean on any shelves—but it's not very sturdy and we still don't know how the thing works." He waves it a little, and now Lance can see the thin metal ring affixed to the top of it with, apparently, zip ties. "Nor do we know if this'll work to kill demons or close spawn points or anything, but at least we can carry it around now."

"Phoenix," says Pidge, "can you get hot enough to weld metal?"

"Probably?" he says.

"Then we're gonna have you do that tomorrow. Then we can test this thing out."

"I can just do it now," Keith says. "I make enough light, and we have a time limit, remember?"

"Next you're gonna say we should test it tonight," she says flatly, though she does gesture for Hunk to give it to him.

"We _did_ see a class three wandering around that we didn't want to try to take down on our own."

She rolls her eyes. "Just don't touch the restraint—and don't weld it either, I mean, we don't know if that'll ruin it."

"Got it," Keith says, taking the scepter-thing from Hunk's hands and examining it. "Just reinforce the handle, then?"

"Yeah."

"Hang on, do it downstairs," Lance interjects. "Don't wanna light up the place and let anyone find us, right?"

"Don't wanna choke on fumes, either," says Hunk.

"Behind the counter should be okay. It's still light enough out," says Pidge. Keith nods and walks around the counter, sits there as Pidge and Hunk come around the same side as Lance. Lance leans over the counter to watch.

"You're gonna hurt your eyes, Lance," Keith says without even looking up. Lance pouts and retreats.

The light is bright even blocked by the counter, once Keith gets going. Not large, but bright—brief, too, because it soon fades, and Keith stands while carefully holding out the scepter with its still-glowing-hot handle.

"Don't touch it anytime soon," he says. "You'll get burned." He sets it carefully on the counter, then snatches it up again at the scent of burning plastic. "Uh. I'll just let this cool off, I guess."

"And it doesn't burn you?" Pidge peers closely at the fading metal.

"No, 'cause it's from my power. Any other fire or heat would still burn me. Like how Lance couldn't mess with Frostbite's ice at the warehouse." He turns the scepter obligingly for her to see.

Lance leans casually against the counter. "You know, Keith, speaking of ice, and also melting," he says with a smirk, seeing his chance and taking it. "You just get hotter with every passing da—"

Keith's free hand interrupts him. "Oh my god, Lance, this isn’t the time." He's fighting a smile though. Hunk snickers.

"Admit it," Lance says, muffled, waggling his eyebrows. "You missed it."

"That doesn't mean it wasn't a terrible line," Keith says, and actually bites his lip to keep from grinning. It's not working very well.

"Gross," says Pidge. "Hunk, let's go."

"I think it's cute," Hunk says, even as he lets Pidge pull him away down the stairs.

Keith glances over his shoulder. "Do you want me to bring this down—"

"Yes!" Pidge calls back.

"Okay!" He turns back, still holding the scepter thing well away from them. He drops his hand from Lance's mouth, though.

"You _did_ miss it," Lance says, delighted. Keith rolls his eyes.

"I missed you," he says.

"Yeah, but you missed my _lines_." Lance makes his way around the counter, grinning. "That you always _complained_ about."

"Lance." Keith holds the scepter further away.

"You miiiiissed them." Lance takes hold of Keith's hips and pulls him closer.

Keith makes a frustrated noise even through the grin he's still fighting. "Lance, I'm holding hot metal."

Lance takes Keith's free hand and tugs it around his back, places it on his ass. "You sure are."

Keith finally dissolves into giggles, shaking with it as he rests his forehead on Lance's shoulder. "That doesn't even make _sense_ —dammit, Lance!"

Lance chuckles too; it’s a strange feeling, and he can't help but wonder how long it's been since he _genuinely_ laughed. "Love you," he says, kissing Keith's temple.

"You're the worst."

"Sure am."

"Love you, too."

* * *

Lance is awoken, as he so often is, by a demon. Today, though, it's not through a scout, but through the heavy footsteps on the floor above him. He sits up to find Keith is already awake, holding up a fiery hand that casts wild, flickering shadows about the room. Pidge, too, is awake, standing at the foot of her bed and holding the restraint scepter.

"Sounds like a class three," she whispers.

"Might be the one we saw last night?" Keith offers.

"We should be able to take it down just fine," Lance says. "Just gotta get everyone up."

The ceiling creaks.

"It's upstairs," Pidge points out. "Upstairs is tiny. We won't all _fit_."

Lance flops back onto his mattress. "Then wake Shiro up and make him do it."

"I'm awake," comes a sleepy rumble nearby. "I gave away my most useful powers, you know."

"But you could still do it, right?" Lance points out.

"Probably," Shiro says reluctantly.

"We don't have to make him do it," says Keith. "It's just a class three."

Lance climbs out of bed. "Yeah but Pidge is useless in small spaces. Sorry, Pidge."

She shrugs. "You're not wrong. Still wanna try this thing out, though." She waggles the scepter.

"Perhaps you should stop arguing about who should kill the demon in favor of actually doing so," Allura adds groggily.

"Good, the healer's awake," says Lance. "Okay, Keith and Shiro, you're with me. Pidge, I'll take that—I don't want you relying on it if it doesn't work." He holds out a hand and she begrudgingly hands it over. "Allura, you're gonna have to come up with us just in case, but you can watch from the stairwell."

"Uh, scratch that, Ice," says Pidge as there's an ominous creak at the top of the stairs. "I think it's coming down to meet us."

Lance hands her the scepter back. "Goody. Everyone up! Someone wake up Hunk, let's get these shelves pushed back—"

"They're bolted to the floor."

"Okay, then we're working around them. Heads up, guys," he adds as the stairs creak loudly. The demon is still around the corner—it must barely fit through the stairwell. "Try not to kill it _on_ the stairs or we'll be trapped down here."

"We're going to have to get out as soon as it's dead," Keith says. "The explosion when it dies is gonna take this place down."

"Guess we're moving today," Lance says.

Hunk groans. "What's going on?"

"About time," Pidge says. "Upsy daisy, Hunk, there's a demon coming down the stairs."

Hunk whines, but lets Shiro pull him to his feet.

"Okay, so we gotta lure it in far enough that we can get around it and escape," Lance says. "Hear that, Pidge? No magic wands until it's all the way down here."

"I _got_ it, Ice."

The demon comes around the corner. It is indeed a class three, though Lance can't tell if it's the same he and Keith saw last night; its eyes glow when it spots them and it continues down, unhurried. It knows it has them trapped.

Lance puts a hand to the wall, spreading a thin layer of ice across it in case he need to use it against the demon; in such tight quarters it's likely he'll trip up one of his own teammates if he ices the floor now, but there's no easy source of water—well, there's the bathroom behind him, but he's not sure if he can control water he can't see—so ice is his only option right now. Pidge stands beside him, scepter in hand, blocking the way to Hunk and Shiro and Allura; Keith is in the row of shelves in front of them. His arms are already aflame.

The demon steps onto the concrete floor.

"Not yet," Lance mutters. "Not yet..."

The demon takes a step forward, and another.

"Almost..."

The demon lunges. Pidge dives sideways between the shelves but Lance realizes suddenly he has nowhere to go, and braces himself, coating himself in ice to lessen the blow. Keith shouts wordlessly.

The demon crashes hard into a wavering transparent barrier mere inches from Lance's body. He looks up, surprised.

"Forgot I had that one," Shiro says breathlessly behind him. There's half a wall in front of him, too, and he's taken by a sudden rush of affection for his team.

"Thanks," he breathes.

While the demon is still reeling from the shock, though, Keith jumps in, striking at its weak points. Pidge slips through the shelf and goes to join him, scepter in hand.

"Ready?" she asks.

"Go!" says Lance, and she thrusts the scepter restraint-first at the demon. It hits and the demon roars.

When it lurches back, there's a mark like a brand on the demon's hide, and the way the thing hunches inward makes it clear it's in pain. It is, however, still very much alive. Shit.

"Hunk, get rid of this wall," Lance says quickly. "Shiro, the barrier. Pidge, get out of there."

All three obey quickly as the demon turns. Its beady yellow eyes follow Pidge where she ducks back into Lance's row, giving Keith an opening to thrust a flaming fist at the restraint mark. The demon roars in pain again and Lance follows up with icicles in its other side while it's distracted. The demon swings back around, the spiky back of its arm throwing Lance hard against the wall—ow—but that only leaves its branded side open for Keith again.

"Be careful!" Keith shouts at him as Allura appears quite suddenly beside him.

"I'm fine!" he calls back, and in moments he is. He thanks Allura and jumps back in before the demon can overwhelm Keith, and Pidge is beside him half a second later, thrusting the restraint at it again.

They wear it down quickly, and then Lance has Hunk, Allura, and Shiro scrambling through the shelves to get to the stairs before it begins its death throes.

"You go too, Pidge," he says, as the demon wheezes and tries to get to its feet. It collapses, only to try again.

"I can help," she says.

"We've got this," Keith says.

"Make sure there aren't any more upstairs for the others to deal with, yeah?" Lance adds. Pidge frowns but nods, and finally she goes. He meets Keith's eyes.

"On three," Keith suggests. "One, two..."

They attack, Lance with his ice and Keith with his fire, and this time it stays down.

"Let's go!" Keith shouts, and Lance ducks through the shelf. They run up the stairs together; the others are waiting outside. Keith pushes Lance in front of him.

Lance is almost to the door when there's a rumble, and then the floor bounces upward sharply. And then it caves in, leaving Lance scrambling to hold onto the door before he slides in—and Keith flailing behind him as the boards beneath his feet shudder and slip and then fall, taking Keith with them.

"NO!" Lance screams, letting go of the door to fall on hands and knees at the edge of the hole. He looks frantically into the smoldering darkness below.

"I'm okay!" Keith grunts moments later, and the rubble shifts. Lance remembers how to breathe again.

"Did you get hurt?" Lance peers anxiously into the shadows. Keith emerges into the light let in by the hole, looking a little battered but on his feet.

"Just bruises," he says. "I'm gonna shadow-jump out. Wait for me outside."

"But—"

"I don't want you falling in too," Keith points out, which is a fair point, because the bit of floor Lance is perched on is slanted and probably not very stable.

"Okay," Lance says finally, and shakily half-crawls out the door before he finally gets to his feet. And now his nerves are shot for the rest of the day, great. They still have to try the restraint on the spawn points, too, and it's barely past dawn.

"Is he okay?" Hunk asks, helping him up.

"Yeah, he's gonna shadow-jump out," Lance says tiredly.

"Are _you_ okay?" Shiro asks.

"I'm fine." Physically, anyway. Privately, he thinks maybe it's good the two of them never became a vigilante team like the Association feared. He'd be dead of a heart attack by now if they had.

Keith limps out of the next building over a minute later, and Allura tends to him quickly. Lance bounces agitatedly on the balls of his feet while she does.

"I'm fine," Keith tells him again, watching him bounce with an eyebrow raised.

"I _know_ ," Lance says. "Excuse me for being freaked out that I almost lost you _again_."

He can see the rest of the team shift out of the corner of his eye at that. Surprised, maybe, that he'd talk about the past—though they all _know_ by now—or maybe they didn't all realize he still cares. That they still love each other.

Keith, though, just looks at him a moment, then nods quietly.

"Anyway, I'm gonna go check in with the scouts," Pidge says, handing the scepter to Hunk. "We can still use them without telling them where we are. We also need to decide on what to do with Lotor. In the meantime, guys, make sure those two don't get too distracted with each other."

Lance flips her off. "Look, here's a birdy friend for you."

She grins. "Someone's gotta keep you in line," she says, and takes off.

The moment Allura steps away from Keith Lance is on him, patting him down just to reassure himself Keith is uninjured and solid and real. Keith waits patiently for him to finish before stepping forward into a hug, holding him with a reassuring tightness.

"Are _you_ okay?" he asks.

"I'm fine. I'm dandy," says Lance. "Had a heart attack but, you know, just swell."

Keith nods. "Sorry to scare you."

"It's not your fault," Lance sighs. Keith shrugs.

"Sorry anyway."

"Um, so, I hate to break this up," Hunk says. "But shouldn't we maybe get moving before Choir Delta sees the smoke and comes to investigate?" He points to the smoldering store.

"Huuunk," Lance whines.

"I'm just doing what Pidge said," Hunk says quickly, holding up his hands defensively. "Just doing what Pidge said."

He's right though; they need to get out of here. Lance reluctantly lets go of Keith and faces the rest of his team.

"We shouldn't take on any spawn points without Pidge," he says, "if we’re gonna do it at all—and I think we should still try, because it did at least _hurt_ the demon—but in the meantime we can find a new place to crash. Preferably somewhere that already has beds, because all our stuff is ruined now."

"Aww, man," says Hunk.

"Yeah. So, an apartment building or dorm or something. _Not_ a hospital, that'd be creepy. I know there's like five hospitals around Longwood but we're not doing that."

"I thought one of them was still running?" says Shiro.

"Not since the Fenway spawn point opened, it's not. Cleared out a good chunk of Brookline, too." Lance shrugs. "Activity there isn't as high as, say, the waterfront, so we might want to do our test there, actually. See if it's worth the effort."

"So we _are_ sleeping in an abandoned hospital," says Keith.

"Absolutely not," says Lance. "No. Vetoed."

"How will Pidge find us if we leave the area?" Allura asks, as Lance points down the street and starts walking.

"Don't worry, she's good at finding," says Lance. "She knows what kind of places to look, anyway. She'll probably come up with starting at the Fenway point on her own."

"So," Keith says as they set off. "Is this point, like, actually in Fenway Park, or..."

"Oh man, I totally forgot you practically just got here." Lance smacks his forehead. "It's in the fens, actually, so like, Fenway neighborhood. Not the baseball park, a real actual green growing things park. It's near the Museum of Fine Arts." He claps his hands. "There's like six colleges down there! Dorm-jacking is a _go_."

“Won't we have to get past the spawn to get to them?” Shiro points out. “We're on the other side of the fens right now.”

“Not so much that going around is too much out of our way.” Lance shrugs. “We can just head down Huntington or something. We could definitely find an apartment building on the way, too, but we might as well camp out as close to the spawn as we can safely get.”

"Good point."

"And you're _sure_ Pidge will find us—"

"Yes, Allura," says Lance patiently. "The real question is, will Windy? Because we don't know where CD is hiding out."

"She doesn't want to find us," says Keith.

"They have Duke Fortune, though," Hunk points out. "Aren't the chances they run into us pretty high?"

"Only if he _wants_ to find us, and I doubt he does," Keith responds. "His luck will keep them away from us."

"Until they send a sensor after us," says Allura.

"Nope," says Lance, at the same time Shiro says, "No."

Allura blinks at them.

"I took Nyx's power, back during the crisis," Shiro explains. "I'm a nullifier. They probably know that."

Her eyes widen. "So we're hidden."

"From sensors, yes."

"We just have to avoid being physically seen," Lance says. "So keep an eye out, please. We're kinda out in the open, here." He sighs as they turn onto a major road. "It's a shame you're not also a sensor, Shiro."

"You wish he'd taken more powers?" Allura asks, sounding amused.

"Well, nobody likes sensors, anyway."

"I’m not sure I could be a sensor and a nullifier at the same time," says Shiro. “I’d end up hiding anyone I could sense.”

"Oh well."

It's not a long walk, but it is interrupted a few times, sometimes by a wandering demon but also sometimes by a scout. They fight the former and hide from the latter, until Lance finally decides it's time to stop.

"The fens are just up that way," he says, pointing just right of down the street. "It's not the busiest spawn, but this place is probably still full of demons. We'll find a dorm or something to camp in for now and wait for Pidge."

As it happens, Pidge finds them before they can find an unlocked building. She lands gracefully as Hunk examines a card reader at a dorm door.

"There are probably apartment buildings around here you can try," she points out without preamble, making Keith and Allura both jump.

"Where's the fun in that?" asks Lance. "Anyway, any news?"

"Not really, no," Pidge says heavily. "Plenty of demons, as usual. The supers we ran into at the warehouse were seen leaving the city, but Windy and company were spotted downtown. No sign of Zarkon. Lotor's offering information in exchange for asylum."

"He's kind of already got asylum, insofar as that’s a thing we can do," says Lance.

"Well, he doesn't know that. Nor does he know Zarkon has declared him a villain, specifically—at least, no one has told him—but I guess he can read the writing on the wall."

"Got it!" Hunk exclaims triumphantly as the door clicks open. The card reader dangles from its wires.

"Alright!" Lance claps his hands. "Let's take a bit to rest and find some breakfast. Then we can go after the spawn point."

"And what do we do about Lotor?" Pidge asks lowly.

"Ask for proof of goodwill or something. I don't trust him even without his powers, or that he won't sell us out to get back in his father's good graces." They file into the building. "If he actually has anything useful to say, we'll go from there."

"Sounds good to me." Pidge drops bonelessly into a seat in the dorm lounge, then makes a face. "This chair is awful."

"Welcome to college," Lance says breezily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the location stuff isnt super important but if youre curious, [heres a google maps link that i hope works lmao.](https://www.google.com/maps/@42.3400434,-71.0972661,16.5z) i figure the dorm they break into would be at northeastern. or the conservatory, if they even have dorms, i have no idea lol


	21. so we can take the world back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [the phoenix - fall out boy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yKOlBZJ7Izs)
> 
> i dunno that id go so far as to call this the _theme song_ for this au but. keith is practically named after it (and the previous fic literally is) so, make of that what you will.

They head back out midmorning. There's no chatter this time; they're all on high alert, because where there is a spawn point, there will also be demons. Lots of them.

And Lance has seen Shiro take out five class fours on his own, sure, but that was an isolated incident, a sprint; this is a marathon.

"Whatever you do, don't get separated," Lance says quietly. They can already hear growling ahead, faint, and they may get the jump on a demon or two but the rest will know soon enough.

"We really ought to call for backup," Allura mutters.

"From who?" Pidge retorts. "We can't trust anyone."

"Surely Windrunner would understand if we explained?"

"I'd rather take my chances with the demons," says Keith, and they fall silent again. They creep along the edge of a parking lot, sticking to the dubious cover of the trees lining it. There's a couple of class ones over by the museum but the closer they can get before they're seen, Lance figures, the less they'll have to fight through to get to the spawn itself.

Getting away, successful or not, will be another matter.

The park ahead is visible now across the street, still a muted green despite the weather and the demons inside it. There's what might be a class five wading through the muddy little river there. Lance didn't get down here very often but he remembers when the scariest thing this park had to offer in the daylight, normally, was an ever-present flock of Canada geese.

But anyway. Even with the spawn nearby there aren't likely to be many of anything above class three, so it's better they take out this one before they're exhausted. It'd be more convenient if it were closer to the spawn, but they'll just have to make do. He gestures to the team and points to it, and they nod.

They creep closer, keeping to the shadows. The class five is still in the water, heading up towards the spawn point—which is visible from here, a wavering, iridescent patch of air, translucent but blurring all behind it. Lance signals for quiet and they slink through a broken section of fence and into the greenery behind it. The muddy water sloshes around its legs.

Wait, Lance has Aquarion's power now. He can take care of this himself.

Probably.

He holds out a hand to stop the rest, and continues on his own a few feet, glancing around to make sure he's not going to be ambushed. He kneels and puts a hand to the ground; he's not sure for how long he can manage to use both his powers at once and this probably isn't a good place to test his limits. But if he gets his ice to the water's edge, then switches—hell, maybe he won't need his ice, maybe he can just drown the thing. Better safe than sorry, though.

So his ice creeps through the grass and crystallizes the very edge of the creek, and then he pushes the water up, up, to the demon's head.

The demon lets out a muffled, gurgled roar, pushing air bubbles out through the water in its face. It claws at it, then swings around, looking—and its eyes fall on Lance. It starts to wade towards him.

Okay, maybe he needs his ice after all. He freezes the water around its legs, pushes it higher to wrap around its middle. The water at its face he only pushes inward. More air bubbles escape.

A hand falls on Lance's shoulder. "Don't exhaust yourself yet," Shiro mutters. "Try not to use them both at once."

"Noted," Lance says back. The ice is keeping it in place for now as it thrashes, but he knows it takes a long time for these things to run out of breath. "Anything else seen us?"

"The class ones from the parking lot are coming. We'll take care of them."

Lance nods. Shiro's hand leaves his shoulder. He doesn't really dare look around, not when the class five in front of him could break free at any moment, but he hears the shuffle of Shiro returning to the others.

The demon's movements are growing more erratic now, and stronger, too—the desperation of any creature nearing death. Lance reinforces his ice and holds on. Just a little longer...

"Lance!" Keith shouts behind him—so much for being quiet, but when he looks around, he sees the pair of class twos galloping up the stream towards him. Seconds later Keith is beside him.

"I'll finish this one off if you keep those back," he pants.

"Gotcha." His ice will hold for a while without him; he waits till Keith is starting down to the water's edge before he lets go of the hydrokinesis, though. As the water splashes down, Keith is there with his fire, burning everything he can reach.

Lance turns. The class twos aren't smart enough not to run right onto the ice he forms in their paths; trapping them is trivial. And there's not much point in pretending he can't do icicles, anymore, so he attacks from a distance, wounding them easily.

Pidge is the one to finish them off, though, swooping in from above; Keith rejoins Lance soon after.

"Done," he says. Lance glances over at the burning class five, still half-submerged in ice.

"Nice one." He fistbumps Keith and turns to the others as Pidge lands. "Everyone good?"

"Yup," says Hunk. No one looks injured or exhausted, yet, but they've only just started.

"Then let's hurry." Lance nods towards the spawn... and the source of the shrieks and growls now echoing off the nearby buildings. "They already know we're here."

It's a long, hard slog towards the spawn. None of the demons they face are smart enough to recognize their goal, but it's not like they need to; they make it hard enough to proceed as is. Countless class threes and under swarm them, spotted by a class four here and there.

It's a class four that stands between them and the spawn, now, as they beat down a horde of class ones. Lance glances around; Keith is limping. Hunk is, too, face drawn and streaked with mud; Pidge has been more on the ground than in the air for a while now, and they're holding each other up as Pidge kicks at a demon that strays too close. Shiro looks to be on the verge of collapse, and he's using Incandia's power almost exclusively, wearing the demons down slowly. And Allura doesn't look much better, though she's still flickering back and forth between them all; this battle must've been twice as long for her, by now.

And Lance? He can hardly move his bad arm at all, and he kicked off his shoes a while back to use his power without crouching all the time and his feet are suffering for it. But they're alive, and they're so _close._

"Pidge," he pants, kicking ice at the class one in front of him and trapping it in place. "Hand me the thing."

"Allura!" Pidge calls, and in one second Allura is next to her, taking the scepter from her—in the next, handing it to Lance. The moment it's in his hand he's off running, straight towards the class four.

"Lance?!" Keith shouts behind him. But Lance keeps going; the last of his energy goes into the ice at his feet, and at the demon's feet too. It roars when he traps it.

It won't hold long, but it's long enough for him to slide home under its legs in its distraction, and then—there it is. The spawn. A patch of wavering air, like the heat above pavement.

He thrusts the restraint at it—concerned, for a moment, whether he'll hit it properly when it's hard to say just where it is. But the effect is instantaneous, like water down a drain, warped air spiraling inward to the scepter in his hand.

"Look out!" Shiro shouts, but he can't move—just another second—

The spawn spins shut with a clap, and then he's flung backwards. He hits something hard and everything goes black.

* * *

He can't have been out long, because everyone's still shouting when he comes to. Allura is hauling him to his feet before his brain is up to speed.

"The spawn exploded," she says, clipped. Well, that explains it.

"It's closed, though?" He turns to look even as he asks. It's not visible anymore, at least, but the class four is still alive, if much the worse for wear—thanks in large part, it seems, to Keith and Pidge. Both are assaulting it with energy he didn't know they still had.

"Apparently," Allura says. Yeah.

Okay. It worked. Good.

He starts down toward the demon but Allura catches his arm.

"Pidge told me to tell you: 'if you take a tumble, you're not ready to rumble.'" She makes a face. "Go help Hunk with Shiro, instead."

"But—"

"I'll take care of them," she says firmly. And he'd fight it more but... he has nothing left. He nods and looks for Hunk and Shiro.

He finds them nearby, up the riverbank. Shiro is sitting in the torn-up grass with head in hands; Hunk is next to him, hand on his back and talking lowly. Lance drags himself up to join them—god, it hurts just to move.

"Hey." He drops down on Shiro's other side. "What's up?"

"Ice!" Shiro's head snaps up to look at him. "Ice—the spawn, it was just like—it was just like Rochester."

"What, the explosion?" Lance rubs his face. "Yeah, I guess."

"No." Shiro reaches over and grabs Lance's arm—the good one, thankfully, because his grip is tight enough to hurt. "I _could have closed it._ It's the same! If I'd just stayed up there none of this would've happened."

Lance blinks at him. "You're saying the Shimmering Sky is just a really big spawn point?"

"You've seen it, haven't you?"

Lance looks over to where the spawn was. It's true that they basically looked the same, but... well, the spawns are small and close to the ground, and the Shimmering Sky is neither of those things. Not to mention one key point.

"No demons have ever come out of the sky, as far as I know," he says.

Shiro rolls his eyes. "Of course. They'd fall."

"...Fair enough." Lance watches Pidge land hard on the class four's shoulders, only to take off again as it flails. Keith is entirely on fire and attacking with his fists, as far as Lance can tell. "We still don’t know that the restraint isn’t totally different than your power, though—it might not have been able to close it. I think it would have killed you first, anyway. And even if it had worked and you _had_ managed to close it..."

Rochester would still have been destroyed. No one finishes the sentence aloud.

"We should figure out how to close these things remotely, anyway," Hunk offers eventually. "Maybe we'll be able to close the Sky, too."

Lance sighs. "Then we're gonna need to know more about how the—where'd the restraint go?"

"Allura has it."

"Well. We'll need to know more." Lance puts his hand on Shiro's shoulder, finally dislodging Shiro’s grip on his arm. "Shiro? There's... nothing we can do but move forward. You know?"

Shiro heaves a sigh. "Yeah. I know. I just wish things had been different."

"Who knows where we'd be now if they were." Below them, the class four has collapsed; Lance somehow gets himself back up to standing. "C'mon. There's still gotta be demons around, even with the spawn gone. We gotta get out of here."

"Please," says Hunk, and he and Shiro get up together. Keith rejoins them, as the class four begins its death throes, cupping Lance’s face and looking hard into his eyes before nodding to himself and letting go. Pidge and Allura gather too, shortly, and they all make their way back up the way they came. Lance finds his shoes but he can't be bothered to put them back on over all the mud.

He's tired, too tired. They all are. They just made a huge step towards taking back their city, but the last thing he wants to do right now is celebrate. There's too much left to do, too much they don't know.

And there's no guarantee the spawn won't just reopen.

Everyone's limping by the time they get back to the dorm they'd commandeered; with little more than murmurs, everyone heads off to rest. Keith follows Lance to his room, and if anyone noticed, Lance hardly cares—they fall together into one bed and Lance is asleep immediately.

* * *

Waking up with Keith in his arms is just as hot—physically, sweating-ly hot—as Lance remembers. His shirt is plastered to his skin between them, and... his legs are still caked in mud, aren't they? Okay, this is pretty gross.

He doesn't move yet, though, despite that as he wakes he's only getting more and more aware that he's overheating. It's been so long since he had this—and even then, for a while at the end, it was empty. So help him, he's going to savor every sweaty second of this while he can.

He doesn't have long before Keith stirs; he loosens his grip so Keith can roll over, wearing the same vaguely disgruntled expression he always used to when he discovered he'd ended up being little spoon in his sleep. He half-glares at Lance for a few seconds, then jabs him in the ribs.

"Ow!" Lance rolls away, clutching his side—he has a _bruise_ there too, dammit. "What was that for?"

"You're an idiot."

"What'd I do?!"

"Charged a class four head on?"

Oh, right. Lance rolls back onto his side to face Keith again.

"Okay, so," he begins. "About that."

Keith raises an eyebrow. "I'm listening."

"I wanted to close the spawn before anything else came through, and class fours take a while to kill," Lance says. "And if it wasn't gonna work, then we'd know to run for it instead of wasting the last of our energy. And class fours have a wide range to either side but can't reach their toes too well, so if you're trying to get past one—and you're me, with ice to help the process—under is the best way to go."

Surprisingly, Keith nods slowly. "Okay," he says. "You thought about it."

"Well, yeah."

"I still wish you'd warned me. Us."

Keith... has a point about that. "Like you warned me you were gonna run off after Lotor?" he says anyway, mostly to be a little shit about it.

Keith sees right through him. " _Lance_."

"Okay, okay, sorry." He pauses. "There won't always be time, though. Y'know? Sometimes one of us is gonna have to do something drastic, and there won't be time to explain."

Keith sighs. "Then, say _something,_ even if it's just 'I'm doing something drastic.' Or, I dunno. Make a face. Something."

"Some kind of warning." It's Lance's turn to nod slowly. "Yeah, okay. And you gotta do it too."

"Of course." Keith shifts closer—and then makes a face, and looks down between them. "Oh, god. We should shower."

Lance looks down too, and finds they've brought half the park with them into bed. "...Yeah. But we left all our clothes in that shop that exploded, or back at the office building." He pauses. "And towels. And soap."

"Maybe whoever left these sheets—" Keith stops and feels the surface they're lying on. "...This mattress pad, might have left a towel too?"

Lance sits up. The dorm room they stumbled into is pretty sparse—the other bed is bare plastic, and the desks and wardrobes both have drawers left open and empty.

"I wouldn't bet on it," he says.

Their search of the room is quick and fruitless; they glance into a few other rooms and find them in the same state. Either every student here felt their towel was too important to leave behind, or this place has already been looted. For towels.

They end up rinsing off their lower legs, pants and all, in one of the dorm showers—the water sputters but still runs. Shiro comes in halfway through, still clearly half asleep, and watches them for a moment before looking slowly down at his own muddy legs, and around at the lack of towels.

"Oh," he mutters, and shuffles off to the toilets, but by the time they leave he's turned on his own shower and is doing the same.

And so, with uncomfortably damp pants, Lance flops onto one of the lounge's couches—padded benches, really—with a groan. A glance out the window tells him it's barely dawn; they'd all gone to bed early, after all. That's good, though. Plenty of time to get things done while there's still daylight. God, he still aches, though.

"Now what?" Keith asks, sitting at his head.

"We're gonna regroup and debrief once everyone's up," Lance says. "And then we're gonna figure out what to do with Lotor, and then we're gonna go close the other spawn points and kill a lot of demons and hope Windy doesn't find us."

Keith groans. "Wasn't so bad until you brought up Windy."

Lance shrugs. "We're just gonna have to be really mobile. My ice can get me places pretty fast, and Pidge can fly, and Allura can stop time, and... okay, I think we might have Shiro give Cosmo's power to Hunk instead of you. You can have Blazecrow's. Then you'll _really_ be a Phoenix."

Keith gives him a lazy glare. "Okay, but only if you never make fun of my name again."

"You drive a hard bargain, Keith, but for the sake of your safety, you have a deal." Lance flops a hand above his head and Keith snorts and awkwardly shakes it.

It's not long before Shiro joins them, and Allura too. Hunk shows up at the same time as Pidge, though the latter looks windswept and fully awake.

"Checked in with the scouts," she says, flopping onto the nearest bench without heed for her muddy boots. "Nothing out of the ordinary, just a lot of demons we haven't killed because we've been running around dealing with the spawn instead. And Lotor's still waiting on an answer."

"I think we're gonna accept his offer," Lance says slowly to the ceiling. "I mean, we're kinda already protecting him, so it doesn't really cost us anything to tell him so. What we need out of him is information."

"We should tell him protection is contingent on how good his info is," Pidge says, and Shiro sucks in a breath. "Yeah, you wouldn't like that, would you?"

"Pidge," Lance chides. "He volunteered to help and he already knows you hate him, give it a rest. But I agree about Lotor, in that we should _say_ that; we don't know that we can trust him yet. But we don't have to _mean_ it." With a groan, he finally sits up. "But we need to know what he was after, and, more importantly, what his dad is after. If it matches up with the stuff Ulaz told us, then maybe we can make sense of this mess."

"Agreed," Pidge says tightly. Lance glances over at Shiro; his face is a little too neutral, so he makes eye contact with Hunk and nods subtly to Shiro. Hunk nods.

"Alright, here's the plan for today," Lance says. "We're gonna take an hour and try and find something to eat—or Pidge will go steal from our own stores or something, I think this area's pretty cleaned out—and then we're gonna have a look at everyone's powers and see if anything needs rearranging—Shiro—and then we're gonna go kill some demons. Cool?"

"Cool," Hunk says, and the rest nod.

Pidge heads right for the door when they split, and Lance jogs to catch up with her. Her wings are fluffed to twice their size.

"I know you're gonna say I said I wouldn't antagonize him," she says without so much as glancing back at him. "And I know he wants to help us and we'd be fucked without him."

"So?" Lance prompts, and Pidge huffs.

"Okay, it's not actually him," she admits. "We're good. As good as we're gonna get, anyway. It's just... everything. Not just that we're working with him and having him use his powers, but everything else. The demons and Lotor and all the damned spawn points, and the _Sky,_ and we're villains. We're _villains,_ Ice. Lance. We fought heroes. That's not—if everything fixed itself somehow, right now, could we come back from that?"

"Well, it's not gonna fix itself," Lance says uncomfortably as they leave the building, because she has a point. "And we're gonna prove ourselves."

"I don't ever want to be in a position where it's good for us when things go wrong," she says sullenly, and she's right about that too. "Tell... tell Shiro I'm sorry I snapped at him. I'm gonna go find breakfast."

"Okay, Katie," Lance says, and she gives him half a smile and takes off.


	22. no time to think about the questions to address

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [what you know - two door cinema club](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YXwYJyrKK5A)
> 
> im out the door omw to the gym so im sorry if the formattings fucky, ill fix it later

"I still have Incandia and Blazecrow's powers," Shiro begins, listing them off on his fingers. "So that's piercing light and shifting into a bird. There's Litbug's lightning, Nyx's nullification, and Rebound's force fields, too."

"I think I'm fine with you keeping those last three, at least. We'll see," Lance says. They've met back up in the lounge again, now fed, and Shiro's sitting on the table in the center of them all.

"I don't want to give anyone more than two extra powers," he says carefully. "Only because I know _I_ can handle it, but that's my own power. I don't know what the effect on anyone else might be."

"Fair enough. What else?"

Shiro frowns and looks back down at his hands. "Spontaneous combustion, water breathing, turning to liquid, and turning to stone. The rest I've given back or given to you guys."

"Hm." Lance sits back and frowns. "No matter how you shake it, someone's gonna be without a power that increases their mobility. Hey, do you think I can use my hydrokinesis on your liquid form?"

"I doubt it, but we can try," Shiro offers. "It's pretty gross, though. And kind of useless."

Lance stands. "Not useless if I can fling you across a battlefield. Give it a go."

Shiro shrugs, and... liquifies. Hunk screams. Lance gags and turns away, waving a hand.

"Never mind, never mind!" he shouts as the rest of the team erupts too. "I never want to see that again, oh my god."

"Warned you," Shiro says, thankfully solid again when Lance turns around. "But powers don't usually work on other powers anyway."

"Fine, fine." Lance puts his hands on his hips. "Is there anything anybody, like... wants?"

Hunk, still looking a little green, puts up a hand. "Turning to stone?"

"You're already on defense, Hunk," says Pidge.

"Yeah, but with that I could be offense, too. Who wants to be hit in the head with a rock?"

"Good point. Shiro?"

"It'll slow you down when you use it," Shiro warns as he heads over to where Hunk is sitting. "And we did want everyone to be mobile, right?"

"He'll be practically invulnerable, though." Lance snaps his fingers. "Give him water breathing, too! Worst comes to worst, he jumps in the river and I carry him outta there."

"Or you can just give him Blazecrow's power?" Pidge says. "I doubt it's doing Shiro much good anyway."

"I want Keith—I mean, Phoenix—whatever—to take Blazecrow's. Cosmo's power should probably go to someone whose power doesn't make a lot of light, y'know?"

Pidge shrugs and nods. Shiro looks between them, hand hovering in front of Hunk.

"So... shadow jumping or water breathing?"

"I guess I'll take water breathing," says Hunk with a frown. "But I'm not jumping in the river while made of stone. Do you know how much mud is probably down there? I'd sink so far I'd never get back out."

"That's fine, dude. Go ahead, Shiro." Lance waves a hand.

Shiro shrugs and takes Hunk's hand for a moment. He lets go but Hunk's hand stays raised—the change isn't as visible as Lance thought it would be, but the grinding noise when Hunk curls his stony fingers into a fist is pretty noticeable.

"Cool," says Hunk.

Shiro offers his hand to Keith next, who takes it without fanfare. He doesn't waste time testing it, either, because moments later there's a bright orange crow sitting next to Lance where Keith had been.

"Awww," Lance coos, and Keith pecks him. "Ow! Okay, okay. What's left? Anything anyone wants to claim? Allura?"

"I think it best to save my energy for healing," she points out as Keith returns to human form. "Stopping time is enough."

"Good point. Pidge?"

"I already got one." She shrugs. "I'm good on attack and mobility on my own, and the tree thing is extra anyway."

"We don't want to leave Shiro useless, either," Allura notes.

"Oh, he's far from useless. Shiro, how many powers do you still have?"

"Half a dozen or so," he says, leaning against the table again. "I'd like to keep the force fields and nullification, if you don't mind. And either Incandia or Litbug's powers. If no one else takes Cosmo's, I'll have everything covered."

Lance taps his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe I'll take the spontaneous combustion. Mix things up."

"Fire's _my_ thing," says Keith.

"Yeah, but what if I get cornered or something? They'll be expecting ice, not fire."

"Then I'll set them on fire before you have to. End of story."

Pidge snorts. Hunk looks to be dangerously close to cooing.

"It would be redundant, anyway," Allura adds. "Your power is already touch range. You don't gain anything by taking another."

"I guess. You want it?"

Allura shrugs. "I can't imagine I'll use it. You may as well let Shiro keep it. I believe his only other touch-range power won't be effective against the demons."

"Right, yeah, no, I don't think it will. Which leaves... Incandia or Litbug. Which is stronger, Shiro, the light or the lightning?"

"Lightning," Shiro responds immediately. "The light is better for non-lethal fighting, but I don't think we'll be doing much of that. I hope."

"Keith, can you fight at range?"

He shrugs. "No, but I can fly now."

"Right. Okay, the rest of us can do ranged stuff now; I want you or Pidge to take the light. You're both flyers now so I don't know how much you'll use it, but there's no point in Shiro keeping both." Lance gestures. "If everyone has a variety of powers, we can prepare for anything, you know?"

"Then Keith should take it," Pidge says. "If I absolutely need to do distance, I'll throw trees."

"Works for me," Lance says, and Shiro reaches out to Keith again. Keith tests his new power this time, too, shooting a bolt of light across the room; it shatters one of the lounge windows.

"Nice," says Pidge.

Something shrieks outside before anyone can say anything more. There's a second of heavy silence—then something crashes through the window, tumbling into the middle of the lounge.

Lance jumps up. At first he thinks it must be Windrunner—they're on the second floor, and whatever came in was definitely flying. But no, the shriek wasn't a human one, and—the thing unfolds itself and it's a demon. A demon with wings.

"Fuck," says Keith, and rushes forward, already aflame. Shiro, already the closest, jumps off the table and charges, too. Lance and Pidge move to flank it; Hunk and Allura hang back, ready.

The demon shrieks and snaps its wings out, spreading them from wall to wall, but not before Shiro manages to set one on fire. Keith tackles the other and it screams and tries to peck at him—it resembles a pterodactyl, or maybe a beaked bat, large and lumpy. Keith dives out of the way and Lance freezes its feet in place, for all the good that'll do; there's not much room for it to maneuver with its wings extended and it's flapping both, trying to put itself out.

He can't get around behind it like this, but Pidge takes a running leap, snapping her own wings out to glide over its head. She lands on its back, digging in her taloned heels and making its legs buckle. Lance spreads his ice further up, keeping it on the ground; Keith jumps onto one of its wings again.

"'Scuse me," Hunk says, and Lance steps out of the way so that he can grind forward and grab the demon's head before it can peck Keith again. It struggles in his grip but he's stronger—it tries to bite him but he's made of stone.

"I like this power!" Hunk calls, and Shiro gives him a thumbs up before he sets the other wing on fire again.

The demon succumbs shortly after that, probably more from Pidge stomping her talons into its back than anything else; its death throes are impressive, though, and they all have to scramble out of the lounge completely.

So. Easy enough to kill. Class two or three, Lance would guess.

But it flies.

"You guys are gonna have to watch yourselves in the skies now," he says, turning to Keith and Pidge, both still panting with exertion. Allura heals a bruise on Keith's arm with a touch.

"This is bullshit," Pidge says. "Where'd it come from?"

"I hope the spawn didn't reopen," Keith says, and they meet eyes for a moment, then turn to Lance.

"Yeah, go look," he says quickly. "And be careful, please."

"We will," Pidge says, and she nimbly avoids the demon's smoldering remains before all but diving out the broken window. Keith pauses to kiss Lance's cheek before he follows.

Lance sighs and turns to the others.

"Okay," he says. "New thing. Probably because we made headway for once."

"I guess we're getting their attention," Shiro says.

"That _is_ what we wanted," Allura says.

"Yeah, but we wanted Zarkon to come to us, not to send flying demons." Lance leans against the wall and gestures widely. "Though I'm not sure _how_ we're gonna do that anymore, since we can't use his kid against him."

"Maybe Lotor's information will help," says Allura.

Lance sighs. "Guess we'll find out. Let's head downstairs; our fliers won't be long. And then we're gonna have a chat with our guest."

* * *

The spawn point they closed is still closed. It's a relief, but it doesn't mean it'll stay closed forever—just that the flying demon came from a different one. It occupies Lance's mind as they make their slow way back through the city; theoretically, there will be less demons now that they're down a spawn. But if the other points are spewing out _new_ demons, what's to stop them from increasing their output, too?

And even if there _are_ less demons entering the city, there are still plenty already here—and the scouts can't usually handle more than a class two, when they handle it at all. It's up to Authority Tau alone, again, and they really haven't been keeping up.

Which is why it takes them all day to get back to the office building that now belongs to the scouts; they stop to kill every demon they find, and they find quite a few. Lance is thoroughly exhausted by the time the building is in sight, and it's with relief that he staggers up to the door and heaves it open.

And then he sees a familiar silhouette inside, facing away, and turns on his heel, closing the door as quietly as he can behind him.

"Windy's here!" he hisses, shooing everyone back. He leads them in a hurry into one of the ruined buildings across the street.

"Shit," Pidge groans. "I warned the scouts, but if any of them aren't actually loyal to us, they might give something away anyway."

"We need to get Lotor out of there before Windy gets to him, or we're never getting anything out of him," Lance says. He peers out the broken window while trying to stay out of sight; no one's come out yet, so maybe he wasn't seen. If they're lucky. But luck is, quite literally, on the other side.

"It won't be hard to get in," Shiro says at his shoulder. "The problem is getting out. I don't think any of us can take him with us with our powers."

"I might be able to glide him out, but it's only dusk. If we don't wait 'till dark, it'd be really noticeable—and he might be too heavy," Pidge says. She looks full on at Shiro. "Can you shadow jump with people? I thought Cosmo could."

Shiro blinks. "Never got the hang of it. Though admittedly, I didn't try very hard, since it was always villains asking me to do it."

Her mouth thins to a line, and she looks across the street. Lance waits.

"Okay," she says. "We've only got one chance at this. You and I both are heading up there, now, and one way or another, we're getting him down. Clear?"

"Crystal," he says.

Lance nudges Keith. "Go keep watch, babe. You'll be less noticeable."

"Right." He shifts and takes off, and Shiro steps back into the shadows. Pidge stretches her wings.

"Hope this works," she says, and hops out of the window and takes off, too.

"Um, question," Hunk says. "So if my escape plan is 'jump in the river,' but we're not _near_ the river... what do I do?"

"Run for it," Lance says, watching Pidge glide up to the window that Shiro's just opened—unhinged, possibly—from inside.

"Reassuring," Hunk says flatly, but he falls silent to watch Pidge climb in the window too. And then there's nothing.

"C'mon," Lance whispers. "Come _on_."

And the glass shatters and Pidge is gliding out, wings straining and Lotor clinging to her arms. They land in an ungainly heap outside the building as Shiro reappears inside, next to Lance.

With Innervate clinging to _his_ arm.

" _Shiro_ ," Lance begins.

"I asked to come," Innervate says quickly. "I can't work with them anymore. I can't."

"We'll talk later, then," Lance says. "Right now we need to go." He waves everyone out, as Pidge and Lotor get to their feet.

"This is unexpected," Lotor begins, but Lance waves a hand.

"Later! Let's _go_ ," he says, and gestures the whole pack down the street away from the building. They start running—or flying, as Pidge takes off again and Keith swoops overhead—dodging scouts and demons until it's fully dark and they're well away from the building again.

"Okay," Lance pants, slowing. "Okay." They stumble into an abandoned restaurant and everyone slumps into the left-behind booths, lit only by Keith’s hand and then by the little fire he sets in the rubble in the center of the room. Lance gives himself a minute to breath before he flops down next to Innervate. She looks nervous—exhausted, too. Her long blond hair has half escaped the two buns atop her head and her hands are shaking in her lap. He nudges her shoulder.

"Hey," he says. "What's up?"

"I cannot fight another team," she says, firmly and clearly in spite of everything. "Not again. It's wrong."

"And you're not spying on us for Windrunner?"

Her head snaps up. "Of course not!"

"Keith?" Lance looks up at the fire, then around. "Keith, where are you?"

"Here." He leans over the back of the booth seat.

"Hey, babe. You believe her?"

Keith glances at Innervate, then raises an eyebrow at Lance. "Innervate? She's a worse liar than I am. So, yeah."

"Impressive."

"Thanks, I think," she says. "I... I heard you were trying to solve the demon problem. I want to help, if I can. Just as long as I don’t have to fight any more heroes."

"Another healer can't hurt," Lance admits. "And believe me, we’re trying to avoid other heroes too. We'll figure out how to work you into the team later, then. First, though..." He turns in his seat, to face where Lotor is sitting stock-still between Pidge and Allura. "Lotor."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im estimating less than 10 chapters left? but god knows im bad at estimating


	23. you can watch the world devoured

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [the beginning is the end is the beginning - smashing pumpkins](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=59g5R8rwqpY)   
>  ~~i think at the beginning of this thing i linked a spotify playlist to all the chapter songs?? this song is... not on spotify. which is a shame bc i rlly like it and i think its very suited to this fic...~~
> 
> ~~_the sky cannot ignore us..._ ~~
> 
> edit: so the song is on the playlist now. i dont know how it got there because it sure as hell wasnt me who added it, i couldnt even find the song, but. its there. shrug?

Lotor stiffens when he's addressed, as all attention turns to him. "How do you know that name?"

"I know a lot of things." Lance leans back in his seat and crosses his legs. "Right now, what I _want_ to know is, what were you after? Why did you attack us?"

He frowns. " _I_ want your assurance I won't be thrown to the demons—or to GALRAS."

Lance waves a hand. "Yeah, yeah. We got you out of there, didn't we? So if you want our continued protection, you'd better answer our questions."

Lotor sighs through his nose. "Very well, though I'll warn you, some of it may be hard to believe."

Lance raises an eyebrow. "Try me."

Lotor takes a deep breath. "I wanted to find a team that would be able to defeat my father," he says plainly.

Well. That's interesting, if it's true. Lance leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees.

"Did we make the cut, then?" he asks.

Lotor makes a face. "You... have a chance. But it's a small one. The best way would be to overwhelm him—you need an army."

Too bad they don't have one. Lance tilts his head and changes tack. "What is your father after?"

"That requires a great deal of explanation."

"Then explain."

Lotor takes a deep breath. "In short, energy. He came here initially to search for a particular source: quintessence. But this dimension all but lacks it entirely; the Shimmering Sky began when he and his council opened a rift to try to siphon out what little there is, but instead it began to spew quintessence into this world instead." He pauses, looking around at them all. "This is what caused all of you to gain your powers; an excess of quintessence beyond what is normal for the human body, but possible, for some. The effect was worldwide but most concentrated in the major cities nearby; Buffalo and Toronto, for example. I suspect most of you have some connection to the area."

Like Rochester. Lance meets Allura's eyes, and she nods slightly.

"Okay," he says. "So he wants his quintessence back."

"Yes." Lotor nods. "He and his council started the Association to catalog everyone with the excess, to control them, until they found a way to recollect the quintessence they lost. They eventually discovered that they could collect the quintessence released when a super died."

"So that's why they're pitting us all against each other," says Lance.

Lotor shakes his head. "Not yet. At the time, they simply inflamed the conflict between heroes and villains for the lives it would claim. And then, more recently, they found they could collect a small amount of quintessence from _any_ death."

Lance's blood runs cold. "The demons."

"The demons," Lotor confirms. "You were never meant to be effective against them—at first, maybe. But now..."

"They're trying to kill us all," Pidge finishes. "And there's nothing in their way."

He gives her a wry smile. "Nothing but all of you."

No one has a response to that. Lance sits back slowly. If everything Lotor says is true—and it does match up to what they already know, for what that's worth—then Zarkon is _actually_ aiming for world destruction. He's been playing the long game, and it's finally coming to its end.

"How do we close the spawn points—rifts?" Lance asks, because that at least they can confirm.

"Any contact with luxite should do the job," Lotor answers. "It is a mineral originating beyond the rifts, but a small amount was brought here for use in regaining quintessence. I believe Champion's restraint contained a sample." He nods towards Shiro. So that matches up, then.

Pidge groans. "I was really hoping he was lying."

"We already knew the Association's been trying to kill us," Lance reminds her, and looks back to Lotor. "How much time do we have left, then?"

Lotor shrugs. "That depends on how long you hold out, I suppose. His plans are already underway."

Great. Lance rubs a hand over his face. This doesn't change much, but it isn't exactly good news.

"He isn't lying, if that helps," Innervate says quietly in his ear. "About any of it. My power—I can sense some basic physiological responses. Like heartbeat. He's not happy to be here, but he is not lying."

"That does help," Lance murmurs back. Louder, "Anyone else have any questions?"

"Uh, yeah," says Hunk. "How come Zarkon looks human if he's a demon?"

"It's a glamour that hides his true form," Lotor says. "Demons with any intelligence can manipulate quintessence to a small degree." He pauses. "As can I, though less so, now that you've stripped me of my power."

Oh, great, the prisoner can do magic. "So, what, you have a glamour too?" Lance asks.

Lotor nods, and then there's a rippling effect, and his skin turns purple. Beside him, Allura and Pidge both recoil.

"That's the limit of what I can do," he says, skin turning brown again, and Innervate nudges Lance's arm.

"Lie," she says in his ear.

"Bullshit," Lance says aloud, and Lotor's eyes widen. "What else can you still do?"

Lotor's mouth opens and closes a couple times before he finds his words. "Just—small things. Static shock. Unlocking doors. Little things that don't require much power and can do no harm. That's all; I swear it."

Lance glances at Innervate. She nods.

"Fine," he says. Good thing they'd kept a guard at his door. "Anyone else have any questions?"

"I do," Shiro says, stepping forward with arms crossed. Half in shadow, he looks much like the villain he used to be; Lance should _not_ find that as reassuring as he does. "The things you're saying imply that my power is to steal quintessence."

"Transfer, yes. That's why Zarkon wants you back so badly." Lotor nods once, as if to himself. "I'm not sure why no one realized when they had you; I suspect someone in GALRAS kept something hidden from him. There _was_ an investigation into the lead scientist assigned to you, last I heard. Ulysses, I think his name was. Ulysses Azzaro." Lotor shrugs. "But that is only speculation."

"Ulaz," Keith whispers. Huh.

"Then I _could_ have closed the Sky," Shiro says, clearly on an entirely different train of thought. Lotor gasps and jumps to his feet, making Allura and Pidge jump up too.

"That was _you?_ " he exclaims. "That night—in Rochester—it was _you_."

Shiro unfolds. "What? Were you there?"

"I was. I had to use my power to escape—I could tell the rift had become unstable."

"When I saw everything on the ground stop moving—that was _you_."

"Yes." Slowly, Lotor sits back down. "And no, you could not have closed it—merely gathered quintessence through it. My father already had agents in the area trying to stabilize it; they must have managed, or else the backlash would have destroyed much more than a single city."

Shiro fumbles for the nearest booth and sinks into it. "But—the spawn point, it did the same thing. It exploded the same."

"You... closed a rift?" Lotor's brow furrows and he looks around the room. Allura sighs and sits back down too.

"With Shiro's restraint, as you mentioned," she says, and this all isn't really something Lance wanted him to know but it's too late now.

"Oh. Similar, yes. A backlash caused by the sudden release of power—like a snapped rubber band. But, ultimately, not the same."

"Hold on, back up," Pidge says finally. She's still standing, and now she turns to Shiro, still looking a little shell-shocked in his booth. "You tried to stop the Shimmering Sky? That's why you blew up Rochester? It was an _accident?_ "

Shiro looks at her, wide-eyed, and then he looks at Lance. She follows his gaze.

"You _knew?!_ " she all but shrieks.

Shit.

He never did tell her.

"Would it have changed anything?" he asks carefully. "Pidge, I needed you to be able to work with him—or at least around him. Would knowing it was an accident have helped?"

She crosses her arms. "They're still dead either way," she says tightly. "I know that. But the circumstances—this whole time I thought he'd—I don't _know,_ blew it up and changed his mind later? And you let me believe that? I _asked_ you—I asked you if you had any other life-changing secrets when your fucking boyfriend showed up and you said you _didn't_."

Oh, god. Lance rubs his face. "I fucked up," he admits. "I completely forgot about it. I was distracted with Keith being alive and everything and I just... forgot."

Pidge stares. Allura clears her throat.

"Perhaps you should take this elsewhere," she says, with a meaningful nod toward Lotor. Lance nods and creaks up to his feet.

"Kitchens, I guess," he says, gesturing into the darkness, and he goes and Pidge follows.

"You seriously forgot," she says the moment the door swings shut behind them. It's almost pitch black in here, but for a faint hint of moonlight streaming in a few high windows. He can only barely see her face, the glint of her eyes.

"I seriously forgot," he says. "He told me the day he lost his restraint, and there was no way that was gonna endear him to you then, so I put it off and then Keith joined us and it just didn't even occur to me. I'm sorry."

She takes a deep breath and lets it out very, very slowly.

"Okay," she says. "Fine. It's not as... important to you as it is to me. I still wish you'd told me."

"I know it's important to you, and I should have." Lance reaches out in the dark and finds her shoulder, squeezes it. "Is... this gonna be a problem? For us, or you and him?"

She snorts. "I'm glad he wasn't _trying_ to kill a couple hundred thousand people at once. I'm fucking pissed half my family died so pointlessly. At least when it was an _attack,_ it was, I don't know. It was dignified." She huffs and rubs her eye, dislodging his hand. "Is it gonna be a problem? For us, no, I’m mad, but no. For him? I don't know. Maybe it will. Maybe it won't."

Maybe it'll set the two of them back to square one. Lance hopes not. He takes a deep breath, too.

"You need another minute?" he asks.

"Yeah." She swats at his shoulder. "Go ahead. I'll come back in soon."

"Alright." He heads back out into the main room, only stumbling over debris _once_ before reentering the firelight.

"Lance, you gotta hear this," Keith says—he's standing by his fire now, as are Hunk and Shiro. Innervate and Allura both sit tensely, and Lotor no less so.

"What?" Lance asks nervously.

"Clairvoyant is still in Zarkon's hands," Lotor says.

It takes him a moment to see the point. They don't hear about Clairvoyant often; the last time was when their fourth spawn point was about to open. Even before the demons, word from Clairvoyant was rare—but that doesn't mean the Association never acted without explaining _why._

In other words, just because they haven't heard that Clairvoyant has predicted their actions so far doesn't mean it hasn't happened.

"Oh," Lance says slowly. "I don't suppose you know who's side she—he?—is on."

"If he is on Zarkon's side, it may be too late," Lotor says carefully, "but if he has seen what Zarkon intends, then perhaps he is on ours. That does not mean he can openly defy him."

A few things slot into place—the timing of every change and request made of them. The fight at the warehouse, where Frostbite and company knew they'd be there but not why. And Keith—could it have been Clairvoyant's doing that they were reunited? And was it meant to be to their benefit—or not?

"Either way, we need to get him out of there," Keith says, and Lance blinks back into reality. He sighs and drops into a booth, head in hands.

"We do." There's no way around it. "But Clairvoyant is supposed to be at headquarters, and that's in New York. And it's _headquarters._ We're not gonna be able to just pop in and grab him. Not to mention the three spawn points still here, spewing demons unchecked." He looks up. "Look, if we're gonna go to headquarters anyway, we might as well go straight for Zarkon."

"Actually," Lotor says, "Clairvoyant is in Connecticut."

There's a long pause. Pidge comes back in.

"What'd I miss?" she asks.

Hunk waves her over and begins to explain in a low voice. Shiro eyes her but turns back to Lotor.

"How do you know?" he asks.

"I _was_ part of the Association for quite some time," Lotor says. "We spread the rumor that he was located at headquarters to prevent villains from going after him. But he is, in fact, kept in the branch office in Connecticut; the local team is aware of it, but no one else."

_Kept._ Lance feels faintly sick, but he swallows it down. "That'd be Company Rho, then. Did we ever contact them? Allura?"

Allura nods. "I talked to Humidica. She is aware of our plight, as of... how long ago? A week? Which means what she knows is quite outdated. But I doubt any further news she's had of us will have come as a surprise. She _should_ be inclined to believe us, when we explain."

"Okay, good." Lance sits back in his booth. "It'll still take us... a long time to get to Connecticut. Unless we get Coran to drive us. I guess we can do that, though I think Windy will have someone watching him."

Innervate nods. "Duke, usually. But he doesn't want to fight you any more than I do; I think his power will keep you from crossing paths, if you're careful."

"That's... something." He takes a deep breath. "Okay. We go down to Connecticut, we grab Clairvoyant, we come back and finish closing the rifts. If that doesn't get Zarkon's attention, I don't know what will."

"You've already got his attention," Lotor says. "The question is, how will he respond? He's not likely to come after you personally."

"Then we'll keep ruining his plans until he does." Lance stands and stretches. "It's bedtime. We'll talk more in the morning. Who wants first watch?"

"Do we have to keep watch?" Hunk groans.

"We grabbed Lotor _and_ Innervate right out from under Windy's nose. There are new demons flying around. We're keeping watch."

"I'll do it." Keith tosses another chunk of wood onto his fire and sits in front of it. "Wake you in a few?"

"Sure."

"I'll take the morning shift," Pidge says around a yawn.

"If you need a fourth, I'll do it," Allura offers.

"Three should be okay for now," Lance says. "Get some rest, everyone. We've got a long day ahead of us."

"As always," Shiro tacks on wryly as everyone shuffles away to find a booth to claim. Lance waves a hand.

"That's life. Go sleep." And he lies down himself, and drifts off quickly.

* * *

Keith wakes Lance sometime in the middle of the night; he startles into consciousness, narrowly avoiding bumping heads with Keith as he jerks up. It's pitch dark. Keith snorts voicelessly.

"Good morning," he whispers. "Your turn."

Lance rubs his face. "All clear so far?"

"Saw a couple demons fly by, and it started raining, but that's it." Keith pulls him to his feet. "I figured we shouldn't make too much light, but there are still embers going if you need 'em."

"Thanks." Now that Lance is looking, he can see the faint glow of embers on the floor nearby. He feels around for Keith's face and plants a kiss on his cheek. "G'night, then."

"See you in the morning." Keith returns the kiss, and then goes and lies down on the nice, warm, slightly sticky booth seat Lance just vacated. Lance sighs and sits by the dying fire.

It's gonna be a long night.


	24. broken on a lonely road

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [into the storm - banners](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hRvno3MIfY4)

It rains off and on, but it's on again when Lance wakes Pidge up for her shift, albeit much more lightly; the sound of it had muffled any outside noises so thoroughly that he'd taken to patrolling around the restaurant, toeing at shadows. Still, for all that it hid any noises, it seemed to keep them hidden too; his watch was uneventful. He can only hope it stays that way.

Pidge isn't too happy to be woken up, but Lance is all too happy to go back to sleep. He takes her vacated booth and is out instantly.

She shakes him back awake. "Ice, Ice. We have a problem."

"Mmng what," he groans. "I _just_ lay down."

"You've been asleep for two hours, idiot. There are scouts outside, we gotta go."

Aughhhh. Lance sits up blearily.

"Guess we're outta time," he mumbles. "'S everyone up?"

"Working on it," Pidge says tensely. Lance looks around. It's still pitch dark and raining; how Pidge knows there are scouts, he can't even guess. He can barely see her in front of him.

"Okay," he says, and gets up, and feels his way to the next booth over. He pats around until he finds an ankle, and taps it.

"Upsy daisy!" he calls in a stage whisper. "Who is this?"

There's a wordless mumble from up the booth. Innervate, maybe. He edges up until he can shake her shoulder. "C'mon, up."

"Were we found?" she asks groggily—he was right, it's Innervate.

"Think so," he says, and moves on. He finds Keith next—can tell by the heat and shape of his calf, which is a little weird, but he's not gonna question it now—and shakes him awake too.

"Time to get up, we've been found," he whispers, and Keith shoots up and actually does bump heads with Lance this time.

"Ow. You sure?" he mumbles, voice thick with sleep.

"Pidge says there are scouts."

"What time's it?"

"Early as balls."

"Useful, thanks." But Keith stands to meet him, and the tiniest flame appears in his palm, illuminating the two of them and little else. Innervate is yawning nearby, and Allura and Lotor are up, too. Pidge is poking Shiro's shoulder while standing as far from him as possible.

"Wake up, I promise I'm not trying to murder you in your sleep," she's whispering.

"I'm awake," Shiro says, and she jumps and swears. He apologizes as Keith snickers under his breath.

"I'll get Hunk," he says in Lance's ear, and pads off to do that. Lance creeps toward one of the front windows to peer out.

It's not dawn yet, but it's close enough that even without the city lights there's a faint glow in the sky. He can't make anything out in the street—or the street itself—but if Pidge says there are scouts there, he believes her.

"They've been up and down the street a few times," she whispers, appearing suddenly at his elbow. "Dunno if they know we're here, but they're looking. I don't wanna risk it."

"Yeah." He turns away from the window. "Back door?"

"Yeah."

Once Hunk is up and yawning, they file into the kitchen, and then out into the rain. Lance diverts as much of it off them as he can, but they're still splashing through puddles and he's weary to the bone. By the time Pidge decides they're far enough away, the sun is creeping over the horizon and everyone is at least slightly damp.

They break into an apartment building and then into an apartment, settling down on what furniture is left and peeling off soaked shoes and socks. Lance drapes himself over Keith on the worn sofa and closes his eyes.

"Don't we have stuff to do?" Keith asks, poking him.

"Not till it stops raining," Lance mumbles.

"Captain," Pidge says disapprovingly. Lance cracks an eye open.

"If you wanna fly down to headquarters in the rain to warn Coran we're coming, be my guest," he says.

"It's less likely that anyone's gonna come looking for us in the rain," Pidge points out. "And it'll hide our tracks. And we _do_ need to do reconnaissance either way, and you're lying on top of our other flier."

"I don't appreciate you pointing that out," he says, but he does sit up. "Okay. We're taking a little break, and then you guys can look around and make sure we weren't followed and stuff—unless you wanna forgo your break, I guess, in which case you can do it now—and then we're heading down to meet Coran."

"I'll go now," Pidge says. "Already wet anyway." And she trudges out the door. Keith hesitates for a moment before he sighs, stands, and stretches.

"I'm gonna go now too. Be back soon. Get some rest."

"I'll do my best," Lance says wryly, and Keith grins and goes.

"...Since when can Phoenix fly?" Innervate asks.

"Uh," says Lance. "Okay. Who wants to babysit Lotor?"

"I will," Allura says, standing from the coffee table and brushing off her pants. Lotor frowns.

"If you don't want me to hear, I can simply go elsewhere," he says. "I won't go far. Escape is hardly in my best interest."

"I'll help babysit," Hunk says.

Lotor sighs. "Fine, I'm being babysat. Where are we going?"

"The next room should suffice," says Allura, and leads the three of them through the door. Shiro watches them go, mouth twisted.

"Seems familiar," he says.

"Your situation was entirely different," Lance says. "...Mostly different. Innervate, what's your real name? Mine's Lance."

She blinks. "...Why?"

"Because we're technically villains, so why not?"

She glances at Shiro, who raises his eyebrows back at her. "And he's allowed to know?"

"Yeah, Shiro's cool. We're all on the same side now." Lance pauses. "I guess that makes it sound worse than it is. But he's not about to betray us or anything."

"If you're sure," she says, though she doesn't sound sure herself. "My name is Romelle."

"Nice to meet you, Romelle. So, what was your question?"

"Why Phoenix can fly?"

"Ah." Lance shifts into a more dignified position on the couch. "Shiro's been sharing his powers, since, y'know, he can hardly go around giving them back to heroes _now._ So Keith has Blazecrow's power."

Innervate's eyes widen. "He can do that?"

"Yep."

"And you—" She glances over at him again. "You trust him enough to let him do that? Mess with your powers? I, no offense, Shiro, but you're..."

"Champion?" He raises an eyebrow again. "You wouldn't be the only one who still doesn't trust me. But I am doing everything I can to help Lance and his team."

She picks at the seam of her pants. "It's not that I... I do remember when you were a hunter, and you were very kind. And I remember when you lost your restraint, but we were pulled out so soon after... So I didn't know what happened, and then we had to go—go fight Knights Chi." She pauses and swallows, looking down at her lap. "A lot has happened. Maybe it isn't my place to judge you. You've been here trying to do what's right and I—I have only done what I'm told."

"Were you told to come with us?" Shiro asks gently, sitting on the coffee table in front of her chair and leaning in.

"No, but it's too late. I've done—I've done too much I can't undo." Her hands clench around the fabric of her pants. "I couldn't do it again, but I still did it."

Lance has the sinking feeling that Knights Chi didn't fare well. But, surprisingly, Shiro's lips quirk up in something like a smile.

"What you are forced to do to survive," he says, "is not who you have to be forever. What's important is who you're trying to be—that you’re trying to make it right."

She goes wide-eyed, then gives a watery chuckle. "I guess you'd know."

He does smile at that. "It's just what Lance and Hunk—I mean, Afu—have told me. I'm just starting to believe it."

She sniffles and smiles back. "Thank you, Shiro."

"Anytime."

* * *

Coran wraps Lance and Pidge both into a suffocating hug the moment they step into headquarters. There's a lot of fussing and fretting—and a lot of berating them for getting themselves declared villains—but soon enough they've all changed into clean clothes and piled into the van, heading out of the city.

"I suppose it's lucky that your van is so nondescript," Lotor says into the silence—not as awkward as last time, but nearly.

"Did we _have_ to bring him?" Hunk asks. Pidge is literally in his lap in the third row; Allura and Shiro are also in the third row. At least there are three seats back there; Lotor is wedged between Lance and Keith in the middle row, where there are only two. Only Innervate has managed to avoid being a sardine, in the front passenger seat. Coran is driving.

"It's not like we could lock him up in a room somewhere," Lance says. He's only half on his seat, half falling into the open space between the seat and the van's door. "He can magic open locks. And if he couldn't, we don't know how long we're gonna be gone, and I'd rather not have anyone starve to death under my care."

"I'm touched by your consideration," Lotor says drily.

"And anyway, anyone from the Association is gonna recognize this as a potential Association van, even if it's unmarked. So we're not being that subtle. But it's not like we could steal a car or two."

"Why not? We're villains," says Keith.

Lance gives him a Look behind the back of Lotor's head. "Setting aside that that's _not_ a good excuse to commit grand theft auto—every car that somehow didn't get used during the evacuation is definitely busted by now."

"We did get a car thrown at us my first day here," says Shiro.

Lance snorts. "I forgot about that. Yeah, I don't think most of them have been literally tossed across a street by a demon, but they're trashed either way."

"Seeing as we're not being subtle, what exactly is our plan if Choir Delta finds us?" Allura asks.

"Pray they don't," says Pidge.

"Funny. Do we have an _actual_ plan?"

"Pidge, I'm sorry, it’s not that you’re heavy, but can you like, shift, a little, my leg's going numb," Hunk blurts.

"How long exactly will it take us to get to Connecticut?" Innervate asks. "Windy will probably try to follow us if she realizes we've left, as long as she can find out where."

"Which brings me back to my question: _what's our plan?_ " Allura presses.

"I see you really are this disorganized," says Lotor under his breath. Lance throws back his head and groans.

"Are you guys twelve? Do I have to threaten to turn this car around?" he says. "Coran, it's a two hour trip, right?"

"Just under! Depending on traffic, anyway," he responds cheerfully. "Most of the state is still occupied, after all."

"We should be safe once we get a city or two out," Lance says. "And if Windy finds us before we get there, then we're going to either talk to her and try and explain things without, y'know, actually telling her where we're going, or we run. And if we can't do either..." He takes a deep breath. "We'll have to fight."

The van falls silent.

"I don't want to have to do that," Keith says.

"I... can't," says Innervate.

"I really, really hope it won't come to that. But if it does, we're not fighting to kill, alright, just... subdue. Just enough to escape."

That effectively kills the conversation. Everyone settles in for the ride in dead silence; Coran doesn’t even turn on the radio. No one asks him to.

The atmosphere lightens somewhat, over the next hour or so, if only for lack of anything happening. Allura has dozed off on Hunk's shoulder, and Pidge has moved to the square foot of floor between Lance and the van door. He can't see from here, but he suspects Innervate is asleep too, and Hunk looks like he'll doze off any second.

"What're we gonna do with Clairvoyant?" Pidge asks quietly.

"Depends on whose side he's on," Lance responds. He doesn't really want to think further than that. So much is up in the air now; he can't predict what will happen next. Only Clairvoyant can, and everything could change because of that.

* * *

It's the turn off the highway—and the noise Keith makes when the force of it squashes him against the outer door—that wakes Lance from his dozing. From the noises everyone else is making, he's not the only one.

"You good?" Lance asks around Lotor, who's yawning widely.

"Not how I wanted to wake up, but I'm fine," Keith grumbles. "We there yet?"

"Nearly!" Coran responds. "Just a few more minutes, I expect."

No sooner does he say it than something hits the side of the van, hard. Coran hits the gas and turns the wheel, but there's another hit and with a squeal of tires they teeter and tip, sending the overfull van rolling onto the embankment.

"Pidge!" Lance shouts into the cacophony, reaching for her as the van goes upside down, then sideways, sending her toppling past his lap. He grabs on as the van rights itself and then, agonizingly slowly, tips onto the door side and settles there.

Pidge groans and sags in his grip, unresponsive; Lance lowers her as best he can onto the door beneath him. He's dangling from his seatbelt, which is cutting uncomfortably deep into his stomach—it doesn't help that Lotor's in it too, though he's grabbed onto the handle above Keith's seat and that's taking some of the pressure off.

"Is everyone alive? Sound off," Lance calls.

"I'm alive—sorry, sorry Allura," says Hunk.

"I'm alive," Allura grunts.

"I'm okay," Keith says in the same tone—he's also holding onto the handle, and Coran's seat in front of him.

"Here!" Innervate waves a hand from the front passenger seat.

"Present!" Coran says. "But I think Company Rho has found us."

Lance glances through the windshield—it's webbed with cracks but there are definitely people approaching.

"I'm okay—is Pidge?" Shiro says. Lance twists around as best he can.

"She's unconscious—Allura, can you get out of there and heal her? We've got a time limit."

"I'll try," she says. Lance nods and looks up.

"Okay. Okay. Lotor, I'm gonna unbuckle, but we need to not fall on Pidge."

"Understood." Lotor pulls himself up a bit more, and Lance turns, bracing his feet and arm—the good one, thank god—against the side of the van. He reaches around himself and frees the seatbelt; he manages to fall into a sort of crouch over Pidge's prone form, and Lotor only sort of lands on him. Allura has already slid in front of Shiro and is reaching for Pidge.

"Coran, Innervate, kick out the windshield," Lance says. "It won't be sneaky but we need to get out fast."

"Got it," says Innervate, and she lifts her arms to shield her face as she and Coran kick at the glass. It shatters quickly, and Innervate is the first out; Coran's a close second.

"Lotor, go," Lance says, as Pidge blinks back awake.

"Did we crash?" she mumbles.

"Pretty much, yeah. The Rhos are here, we gotta get out."

"Fuck."

With Lotor out of the way, Lance is quick to shuffle backwards out of the van, helping Pidge along after him. And then he turns—only to be greeted by a familiar face.

" _Lance?!_ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;)


	25. that's when you find me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [all fall down - onerepublic](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iImnNek9W_U)
> 
> shoutout to everyone who saw this coming ahaha :')

"Veronica?" he says, blinking, like that will somehow make the scene in front of him make sense. They have to be Company Rho—there's a wyrm with them, for fuck's sake, and a dark-skinned girl with lightning crackling along her arms and fog curling around Veronica's feet. These are definitely supers. _Veronica_ is definitely a super.

" _You're_ Humidica?" he asks, at the same time as she says, "You're _Icicle?_ "

They take another second to stare at each other; then Veronica spins on the spot and waves at her team— _her team._

"Stand down!" she says. "Stand down, they lied to us."

"So we don't have to fight?" Hunk asks hopefully. Keith emerges from the van and sidles up to Lance's side, where he's still frozen in shock.

"What's going on?" he asks, as the wyrm shifts back into human form and the girl stops crackling—Ironburner and Livewire, Lance realizes. And the pale girl who appears out of thin air must be Will-o'-Wisp, and the stoic man next to her is Mute. This is definitely Company Rho, and their leader is definitely...

"Uh," Lance says belatedly. "That's Veronica. Humidica is my _sister_."

"Your _sister’s_ here?"

She turns back around then and marches toward them, seizing Lance by the shoulders and giving him a little shake. He's still kind of reeling, but she seems to have gotten over the shock, because she just says, "Lance, we thought you'd fucking _died,_ " and wraps him in a tight hug. He returns it in earnest.

"They got me right at the start of the Crisis," he says into her hair. "I couldn't contact you guys or anything, and... I was kind of a wreck, anyway."

"I'm sorry I couldn't, either," Keith says, at which point Veronica pulls back just enough to look at him.

" _Keith?_ God, I didn't even _see_ you." She pulls him into the hug too. "And you're together? How did you manage that?"

"It's a looong story," Lance says, and she finally lets them go.

"You need to tell me all of it," she says. "Let's get back to headquarters." She glances over their shoulders. "...And sorry about your van. I'll make sure it gets fixed up."

"Headquarters might not be the best idea," Shiro calls, which is when Veronica notices him. Her eyes widen, and she takes in the rest of the group—Innervate healing everyone's cuts and bruises alongside Allura, Lotor standing awkwardly in the middle of the pack, and there's Champion among them. She narrows her eyes and turns them back on Lance.

" _What_ is going on?"

Lance runs a hand through his hair. "Like I said. Long story. I don't know what you were told but it's probably wrong."

"We were told you'd gone rogue," she says flatly.

"Okay, that's kind of true," he says. "The short version is that the Association wants us all dead. Like, everyone, not just supers. They're harvesting our energy or something."

She stares at him.

"I told you it was a long story," he repeats, and she sighs and shakes her head.

"If you weren't my brother, I'd think you'd gone insane," she says. "Frankly, I'm not sure you haven't. Why are you even _here?_ "

"CD's trying to kill us," says Keith. "What's left of them, anyway. Nerve joined us." He nods over his shoulder at Innervate.

"And you have Champion because...?"

"Because he's helping us kill demons and not get our asses kicked," Lance says. "He's not here to hurt anyone, I promise."

"And that guy? Isn't he Zarkon's son?"

"We're giving him our protection in exchange for information."

She takes a deep breath. "Sounds like you've gotten yourself into a big mess, dear brother."

"That's an understatement. I'll be happy to tell you all about it, but I wanna go somewhere less visible first." He gestures at the cars still passing them by—especially the ones slowing to look. "We're sort of fugitives right now."

"You're lucky we came prepared for capture, then," Veronica says, and waves them up towards the end of the highway exit ramp. "We've got a bus."

"Thank god," says Pidge, and starts up the embankment toward it. Most of the group follows, but one of the Rhos hangs back—Ironburner.

"Wait a minute," he says. "Midi, what are we doing? He just admitted they're villains! They've literally got two villains and a defector with them!"

"What do you want me to do, Iron, murder my brother?" Veronica puts her hands on her hips. "At least we can hear them out. You know what the Association is like."

"They put the 'ass' in ‘Association,’ yeah, you say it all the time. That doesn't mean these guys aren't dangerous."

Veronica rolls her eyes and looks at Lance. "Are you planning to kill us?"

"Nope."

"There, they aren't dangerous." Veronica continues walking, and Ironburner takes a deep breath and hisses out smoke.

"Okay," he says, "so what happens to us when they find out we didn't try to stop them?"

Veronica turns and fixes him with a look. "Nothing they weren't planning to do already, if Icicle is telling the truth. Come on, already; we're discussing it somewhere else."

Ironburner frowns, but he finally follows, and they all climb onto the waiting bus. Livewire has already settled into the driver's seat.

"Where to?" she asks.

"The abandoned warehouse we found Chainhammer in," Veronica says as she passes.

"Spooky choice, captain, but you got it."

Veronica slides into the first row, opposite Keith, and Lance sits next to her. The more he thinks about it, the more feelings he has about this—because it's not like when Keith showed up, back from the dead. He knew Veronica was, most likely, alive and well. And now he's finding out she's been in the same kinds of danger he's been in, probably for almost as long, and there was no way he could've known or done anything about it.

Just another thing he doesn't want to think about.

"When did you become a hero?" he asks, as the bus pulls onto the street.

"Three months or so into the Crisis," she says—so yeah, almost as long as him. "I didn't even know I had a power until their sensors found me. How'd they get you?"

"Um," says Lance.

"We were both vigilantes. They pitted us against each other," says Keith. "And forced us to register after."

"That's a way to put it, yeah." Lance swallows. "I didn't even know he was—we were only reunited recently. Hadn't seen him since."

Veronica glances between them a couple times, but she lets it slide. "That sucks. Keith, what's your hero name?"

"Phoenix."

"Oh! Weren't you with Choir Delta? Weird they kept you in Rochester."

"I didn't actually join them till Rochester was destroyed," Keith says, and Veronica's eyes flick over to Shiro. Fortunately, he's talking to Hunk and doesn't notice.

"That's also a long story," Lance offers. "He was trying to close the Sky."

" _Close?_ "

"It's a rift. A really big spawn point."

Veronica shakes her head. "Champion is a good guy now, the Shimmering Sky is a spawn point, and my little brother and his boyfriend are superheroes. Just how long is this story?"

"I hope you weren't planning on doing anything tonight," Keith says.

"Jesus."

Keith isn't wrong—the sun has just set by the time they finish explaining everything. Veronica takes it all in stride; Ironburner, not so much.

"This is completely insane," he says, pacing. "The Association isn't great, sure, but they have their reasons, and I'm pretty sure that killing everyone on the planet isn't one. It doesn't make any sense."

"Actually, it does," says Will-o'-Wisp. "They repeatedly withheld aid from the hardest hit regions during evacuations, yet had a team free to guard a warehouse full of corpses, and another to send against their own teams. It can be reasonably assumed that they have not cared what happens to civilians since they pulled Choir Delta out of Boston to fight Knights Chi, if not earlier. Besides, there is no evidence that Knights Chi had done anything but refuse to leave their city undefended; if the Association intended only to protect, they would not have sent a team to attack them. Or tried to pull them out at all, depending on the exact circumstances."

Iron stares at her for a moment, and just like that he shrugs. "Well, if Wisp says so," he says, and sits down.

"Anyway," Veronica says after a moment. "If you need us to hide you, we'll do what we can. You're lucky I'm the one in charge here, though. I don't think another team would've stopped to hear you out, at this point."

"It's highly unlikely they came to hide," Wisp adds, eyes flicking over each of them in turn and lingering on Lotor. "They had to know we were here. Eastern Massachusetts or the abandoned parts of New York would have been a better choice. So: why here?"

Livewire nods. "Hey, good point. Why _did_ you guys come here?"

Lance glances at his team. They look back at him. Pidge nods.

"We're looking for Clairvoyant," he says, looking back at the Rhos.

Wisp nods. "You want to stop Zarkon. Zarkon has Clairvoyant. Clairvoyant can see the future. You can't win if he knows what you're going to do."

"So, what, you were gonna kidnap him out from under our noses?" Iron asks, eyebrow raised.

Lance shrugs. "Kidnap or rescue, depending. We don't even know what side he's on."

The Rhos look at each other.

"I'd like to say we do, but... we don't," says Veronica. "We know he's here in case we need to protect him, but even _I_ have never actually seen him. He's hidden away in the branch office somewhere."

"Yeah, I don't want to be the pessimist here—as always—but what if he isn't there anymore?" Hunk asks. "What if he's never been there at all? We know the Association lies."

"He's here. I _have_ seen him," says Lotor confidently.

It's a little funny how everyone immediately glares at him. Lance bites back a laugh and shakes his head.

"We gotta go look, either way," he says. "And hope that he didn't tell Zarkon we're coming."

"Do you need our help?" Veronica asks, and her team sits up a little straighter.

"Depends," says Lance, leaning back on the crate he's claimed as his chair. "How willing are you to become villains?"

Slowly, Veronica grins.

* * *

Lance is pacing.

They spent the night in the warehouse, for lack of anywhere safer; right now Company Rho is out on their daily patrols. They're going to meet up later to get Clairvoyant, but for now, the Rhos are keeping up appearances. They need to be able to walk right into the branch office, when the time comes, or else there's going to be a lot more trouble than they planned for.

And in the meantime, Coran is getting them a few less-conspicuous escape vehicles. Lance didn't ask how. All he can do for now is wait.

"You're going to wear yourself out, pacing like that," Shiro comments. The rest of the team is pretty much just sitting around; Pidge and Hunk are messing with the luxite scepter again while Innervate watches, Allura is meditating or possibly just napping, and Shiro, Lotor, and Keith are all just watching him pace.

"Yeah, well, I've got energy to spare right now," Lance says. Nervous energy, mostly. He's got plenty to worry about.

Shiro shrugs. Keith smirks, just slightly.

"I think Shiro is right, Lance," he says lightly. "You should _chill_."

Lance stops. "I hate you," he says, but Keith just raises his eyebrows. "Seriously. I've heard enough ice-related puns to last me several lifetimes, I don't need this from you."

"What are you gonna do about it?" He's still smirking. Lance rolls his eyes.

"Nothing, we're in a goddamn warehouse, you tease."

Lotor lightly clears his throat and looks away. Shiro is badly covering a grin with his hand. Keith looks entirely too smug, the asshole.

"If they try anything, stop them!" Pidge calls over. Lance flips her off.

"We _do_ have time to kill," Keith points out lowly.

"What's with you?" Lance asks honestly. "You're not usually like this."

"It's been years?"

"I'm going to... go over there," Lotor says, getting up and heading over towards Hunk, Pidge and Innervate.

"Me too," Shiro says, quickly following. Keith outright grins.

"I mostly just wanted to get rid of them," he admits, patting the seat next to him. "Not that I'd complain if you _did_ wanna find somewhere more private."

Lance grudgingly sits. "You're still a tease, but I'm kind of really not feeling it right now."

Keith raises his eyebrows, and not in a teasing way this time. "No? Your favorite distraction?"

"I don't want to be distracted, I want to go and get Clairvoyant and get out of here already."

Keith eyes him. "I wanted to talk to you about Veronica, actually," he says finally. "She's why you're worried, right?"

"I'm worried for a few reasons, but she's one of them, yes." Lance eyes him in turn. "Why did you want to talk about Veronica?"

"To see how you're doing. I mean, your favorite sister's a superhero."

Keith may not have understood family, back then, but he sure understood Lance's feelings about family, and apparently that's still true. Lance sighs and rubs his face.

"It'd bother me even if she _wasn't_ my favorite sister, for the record," he says. "Yeah, I'm kind of freaking out about it, but what can I do? At least if she comes back with us I can keep an eye on her. I’ll know if something happens. The only other option is to leave her here, but then I wouldn't know how she is and we wouldn't have Clairvoyant, and I can't... I can't put family over the fate of the entire world. Wish I could."

"So... you're handling it as well as anything, I guess," Keith concludes.

"Yeah, finding out my sister's been running around dealing with the same kind of stupid shit I've been dealing with all this time is just the icing on the cake." Lance slumps sideways, head landing against Keith's ear.

"Ow."

"Sorry." Lance shifts to be leaning more against his shoulder. "I guess, if this works... this could be it, though."

"Yeah?" Keith wraps his arm around him.

"I mean, we have Zarkon's son, so he probably knows we know his secret—if he didn't already know there was a chance we'd learned from Ulaz. And now we're gonna take Clairvoyant, so he won't even be able to tell what we're gonna do next. So he's gonna throw everything he's got at us, probably." Lance takes a deep breath as a new thought occurs to him. "Either that, or it's already too late, and he won't bother because there's nothing we can do to stop him anymore."

"Connecticut is still mostly functioning," Keith points out. "The rest of the world, too, even if they don't have as many supers to fight their demons. Not everywhere's like Boston. It can't be too late."

"Yeah," Lance says quietly. "Maybe. But the Association is everywhere. Are they really gonna just collapse without Zarkon at their head? How many demons disguised as people are we gonna have to fight to end this?"

"Maybe a lot," Keith says. "Maybe just the one. No one as strong as Zarkon, probably, or he wouldn't be in charge. We don't need to know that yet, though. Let's worry about it _after_ we defeat him."

Lance groans. "Yeah, you're probably right. Maybe I'm just thinking too much. Maybe I _do_ need a distraction."

"Yeah, you really sound like you're in the mood right now."

"Oh, shut up." Lance swats at Keith's knee and feels his chuckle more than hears it.

It's probably for the best that Veronica and the Rhos return soon after—even if they're earlier than they should be, which makes Lance nervous. He goes to meet them as they enter, Keith trailing after, and the rest of his team puts down whatever they're doing.

"We need to go now," Veronica says. "The Association is already suspicious—too many people saw us yesterday. They want us to come in to headquarters."

"Did they ask you to bring us?" Lance asks.

"No, which means either they don't know you're here, or they don't want us to know they know. If it's the latter, they already suspect we've jumped ship." Veronica sighs. "But we need to go to headquarters anyway, so at least we have an excuse for going. We'll just have to be cautious about it."

"Okay, what if they've brought in supers to fight us, though?" Hunk asks.

"They couldn't have had time," Shiro says. "Unless Choir Delta followed us down."

"Or if Clairvoyant warned them we'd try this. We still don't know whose side he's on," Lance points out. "I don't like this, but we've gotta get in there."

"What are we going to do with Lotor?" Allura asks.

"God, this is Shiro all over again, isn't it? Sorry, Shiro." Lance shrugs. "We'll have to take him with us. Besides, I think he's the only one who actually knows where Clairvoyant _is_."

"I don't suppose you'd give me my power back, then," Lotor says drily. "Or at least my sword. I'd rather not be defenseless."

"I thought you still had magic or something," Pidge says, arms crossed.

"Nothing I can fight with, as I've mentioned."

Keith snorts. "Give him Shiro's liquid form. Maybe he can't fight, but anyone who tries to capture him will be too disgusted to carry through."

Veronica lifts an eyebrow. " _Give_ it to him?"

"Oh man, did we leave that part out?" Lance shakes his head. "Never mind, long story, Shiro can give people powers that never belonged to them. We've all got like, three, at this point."

"Except me," Innervate says.

"Do you want one? I'm not using Incandia's," says Keith.

"...Maybe."

"Anyway," Lance says. "Lotor can have the liquifying thing if he wants it, for all I care. It's gross and useless. And Innervate can have Incandia's power if _she_ wants it, but we should get this over with and get going already."

Shiro sighs. "Shall I, then?"

The Rhos are staring at them. Lance waves Shiro on and offers Veronica a weak smile.

"We've already been declared villains. We figured, might as well, right?"

"...Right," she says. "I hope you know you're making things harder on yourself for when all this is over."

"That's pretty much the least of my concerns right now. I'll worry about it if we get that far."

Veronica frowns, but she doesn't say more about it. She turns to her team.

"Rhos, this is it," she says. "Whether this works or not, we'll be villains afterwards. Anyone need to grab anything? Anyone need to use the bathroom before we go?"

"I'm really not into the implication that we won't be able to use the bathroom once we're villains," Livewire says.

"Your concern is noted. Anyone else?"

"Is there any way we can _not_ be villains?" Ironburner asks.

"Not without letting the world go to shit. If you want to leave, be my guest." Veronica gestures towards the warehouse exit. "That goes for all of you. If you don't want to commit to this, I don't want to drag you down with the rest of us. This is your out; take it."

She's a good leader, Lance decides, watching the Rhos all look at each other and stay right where they are. He's glad she's the one here helping him, even if he'd rather she not be here at all.

"Well," he says finally. "Are we all ready?"

"Yes," says Shiro behind him. Lance glances back: Innervate is looking at her hands, and Lotor is still pouting.

"I believe we are," Veronica says, with a small smile towards her team. "Shall we?"

"Let's go," Lance confirms, and they head out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> currently it looks like this fic is gonna be 32 or 33 chapters altogether... were almost there kiddos :'D


	26. got your back if you got mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [one foot - walk the moon](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=05v4nfUmBYI)
> 
> really didnt mean for it to be almost a month between updates... february was hell. heads up: march will probably also be hell.

Unlike Boston, Hartford isn't mostly abandoned, which makes staying hidden a lot harder. They take the bus with all of Authority Tau—plus Shiro, Lotor, and Romelle—hunched down out of view of the windows. And there most of them stay, as Livewire parks outside the branch office and Company Rho heads in.

It's just Lance and Shiro with them, each with a hand on Wisp's shoulders. She's keeping them invisible—at the first sign of trouble, she's to sneak out and grab the rest of the team, but if all goes well she won't need to.

Lance has a feeling things won't go well.

He can't see Shiro next to him, but their arms keep bumping. They squeeze in at the back of the group, carefully avoiding the people moving around the lobby—there aren't many, fortunately, and none appear to be supers. Small blessings.

"Hi." Veronica walks up to the front desk. "We were called in?"

"Oh," the receptionist says, looking up. "Yes, you were."

There's a pause. Veronica tilts her head meaningfully. The receptionist shrugs.

"You were, but I wasn't told why. I guess you can take a seat in the lobby until something happens."

Great, that's not suspicious at all. Veronica turns and gives them all a _what now?_ look.

Wisp lifts her hand. "Can you point me to the restroom, please?"

"Oh, yeah. Down the hall to your left," the receptionist says.

If Lance weren't trying really hard to be quiet, he'd breathe a sigh of relief. Veronica nods subtly to Livewire as Wisp starts moving.

"I should go, too," Livewire says quickly, bouncing up to join them and all but stepping on Lance's heels. They traipse down the hall and into the ladies' room—in a rare stroke of luck, it's empty but for them, and Wisp lets them be visible again.

" _Now_ what?" Livewire says.

"Maybe we can all sneak in and get him," Lance says. "Wisp, how many people can you keep invisible?"

"Four, including myself," she says. "Even if he is willing to come without a fight, I won't be able to keep all of us hidden on the way back. Livewire could return without us, but it may raise suspicion if I don't follow soon after."

"Well, we didn't think we'd be able to stealth this whole thing anyway," Lance points out.

"Unless I borrow Wisp's power, I don't see how we can," Shiro says. "We can sneak in, but we'll have to fight our way out."

Wisp frowns for a moment, then nods and holds out her hand. "Take it, then," she says.

Shiro actually takes a step back. "What?"

"Livewire and I can return to the team. No one will be too suspicious of us if we're all accounted for. You won't have to fight anyone if you can sneak past them, and if Clairvoyant is hostile, the two of you will most likely be able to handle him. If you cannot subdue him, you can steal his power and still render him useless to Zarkon."

It's an unexpected plan, but she's got a point.

"What about _you?_ " Livewire demands. "What if we get attacked out in the lobby while they're getting Clairvoyant?"

"My power is primarily defensive, not offensive, so I would contribute little anyway. Besides, our goal will not be victory, but escape, and we have backup waiting outside. The risk is minimal." Wisp holds her hand out more insistently. "We should hurry before they call in another team, if they haven't already."

"If you're sure," Shiro says, taking her hand. It only takes a moment, as usual, and then she steps away.

"Go quickly," she says. "Livewire?"

"Yeah, I'm actually gonna pee while I'm here," she says. "I'll catch up. Boys?"

"Right." Shiro takes Lance's hand, this time, and in moments they're invisible again. Wisp holds the door open; she looks at Livewire as Shiro and Lance slip out.

"I'll meet you in the lobby," she says loudly, eyes flicking down the hall to where random strangers are walking. Lance taps her shoulder as they slip pass and she lets the door close and heads down the hall without so much as a glance back.

Shiro leads the way down the hall, Lance following close behind and doing his best not to step on Shiro's heels. He can't _see_ Shiro, only feel his hand, and he was already unnerved by being unable to see his own feet but this is so much worse. He'd want to close his eyes if it weren't so vital he not walk into anyone.

They make their way quickly down the hall, slowing only when someone comes close; Lance walks as quietly as he can manage but Shiro is definitely better at this. Lotor gave them directions, and it's a blessing they're easy enough to follow, because just getting down the hall is stressful enough.

There are less people as they get further into the building, but they're still stymied by the final door. According to Lotor, Clairvoyant should be just inside, but there's a guard here—and cameras. So much for stealth.

Shiro stops and Lance almost walks into him. Shiro squeezes his hand and he has no idea if that's a warning or a question or what.

Before either of them can act, though, there's a buzzing noise, and a light above the door turns on. The guard, a big burly man who is not _obviously_ a super—but Lance suspects he is—sighs heavily and goes to open the door.

"What is it this—"

"Stop!" The voice comes from inside the room, out of sight. "Right there, hold right there."

The guard rolls his eyes, but he's holding the door open with plenty of space for them to squeeze by. Shiro tugs Lance on and they slip into the room.

It's... a mess. Sort of. There's a method to the madness, a pattern—there are clear paths through the chaos, and a sort of balance to it, too. Shiro leads Lance carefully into the room.

"How many times today are you gonna make me do this?" the guard grunts.

"A few," Clairvoyant says. He's a wiry little man with a wild tuft of white hair atop his head, mad scientist style, if there weren't so little of it. He's got enormous thick glasses and an equally thick mustache and is thoroughly focused on shifting a set of pencils around on a table. "Maybe. Possibly. It depends."

"Well, are you done? Can I close the door now?"

He looks up at nothing, mouths numbers for a few seconds. "...Yes."

The guard sighs again and closes the door. Clairvoyant's eyes dart around the room and narrow.

"There is now a 73.564% chance someone's entered this room invisibly," he mutters. "Show yourself!"

Shiro jiggles Lance's hand. Well, now or never; he squeezes back, and abruptly they're visible again.

"Hi," Lance says tentatively, letting go to surreptitiously wipe his sweaty hand on his pants. "Clairvoyant, I assume?"

"It's about time," Clairvoyant says, eyeing them and returning to his pencils. "Your chances were better last Tuesday—but there's still a chance. Better with me around."

Lance and Shiro exchange a look.

"We've come to get you out of here," Shiro says, and Clairvoyant sniffs.

"That was going to be true in 99.87% of all possible realities in which you come here at all."

"So... let's go, then," Lance says. The guy's kind of weird but he isn't _fighting_ them or alerting the guard, so that's a good sign.

"Not yet. I need to finish this." He glares at them over his shoulder. " _Don't_ touch anything."

Lance exchanges a look with Shiro again. Shiro makes a face and Lance shrugs.

"Do you... have an ETA on that...?" Shiro asks.

"It's done when it's done," Clairvoyant says. Shiro sighs and makes his way over to the wall; he leans against it with arms crossed. Lance picks his way over to the table.

"So," he says.

"Shh." Clairvoyant holds up a finger. Okay then. Lance doesn't touch anything, just shoves his hands in his pockets and watches him shuffle the pencils around.

And waits.

And waits.

Shiro sighs. "We can't stay in here forever."

"There is only a 12 to the negative ten mill—"

"I _get_ it, thanks."

Lance shoots Shiro an amused look over his shoulder. Shiro makes a face back at him.

Fortunately—for Shiro's sanity if nothing else—it's only another couple minutes before Clairvoyant steps back from the table.

"Done!" he says.

"So we can go now?" Lance asks.

Clairvoyant wrings his hands. " _Possibly._ I need you to find out when they last sanitized the floors—with all the people walking out there, the pathogens—"

"If you don't plan to lick them, I don't see how that'll be a problem," Shiro says flatly.

Clairvoyant points at him. " _You_ don't understand the value of cleanliness."

"I really don't think it's our top priority right now?"

"I'm sure I'll be of great use to you when I catch the flu and _die!_ "

Shiro groans and rubs his face. "If I offer to carry you out so you don't have to touch the _filthy, filthy floors,_ will it get us out of here faster?"

Clairvoyant's eyes narrow. "Fine. You may carry me. For _now_."

Well, at least that's solved, and in possibly the funniest way possible. This may be an incredibly important mission but that doesn't stop Lance from fighting a grin as he helps Clairvoyant onto Shiro's back.

Shiro glares at him. "Stop laughing."

"I'm not laughing," Lance says, grinning. "So, how're we getting out of here without that guard noticing?"

"Maybe if he does the same thing that got us in?" Shiro suggests. "Will the guard notice if he can't see you?"

"There is a 64.73% chance he will notice, and a 47.32% chance that if he does he will do something about it," Clairvoyant recites. "But someone will have to activate the alarm, and that's on the other side of the room. There is a 93.22% chance that separating, or all gathering by the button, will result in us being caught."

"Right. And what are our chances if I throw a snowball at it?" Lance says. Clairvoyant pauses.

"A 7.44% chance of being caught," he says, "and a 39.98% chance they'll realize you were here afterwards."

"Good enough for me." Lance grabs onto Shiro's arm. "Time to go ghost, man."

"Going ghost," Shiro says dryly, and then the three of them are invisible. Lance forms a snowball in his hand and flings it at the button on the wall across the room. He misses.

"Nice shot," Shiro says.

"Not really liking this new sarcastic side of you, dude." Lance forms another snowball and bounces it in his hand. "You try throwing something when you can't see your own arm." He takes a deep breath, reels back, and throws.

This time, his aim was spot-on; the snowball splats against the button, and the buzzing sounds immediately. The door creaks open.

"Let me guess," the guard says tiredly, looking at the ceiling. "You want me to stand right here for no reason again."

As he speaks, Lance tugs Shiro forward, and they slip through the doorway as the guard's eyes lower and scan the room. They're already past him when he straightens.

"Okay, where are you hiding _now?_ " he asks. They hurry away down the hall.

Getting back to the lobby is a breathless blur. The Rhos are still lounging in the lobby, looking bored out of their minds, and Lance begins to wonder if they were called here by Clairvoyant's suggestion—for this very purpose. He'll have to ask later. For now, he just reaches over the back of one of the sofas and taps Wisp's shoulder. She stands.

"Do you mind if I step out for a minute?" she asks.

Veronica waves a hand. "Go ahead."

Wisp heads over to the outside door and opens it. She pauses and turns back.

"Does anyone else need some air?" she asks. Lance leads the way through the open door.

"I think we're good," Livewire calls back after a moment. Lance reaches back in to tap Wisp's arm once more, and she finally steps out.

"To the bus," she says quietly.

Shiro doesn't make them visible again until they've all stepped on and shut the door behind them. They hunch as low as they can.

"This is the best mode of transportation you could come up with?" Clairvoyant sniffs, looking around as Shiro lets him down.

"Is this him?" Wisp asks.

"Apparently," Lance says. "Also, wow, thank you. Good improvisation out there."

"It was necessary."

"You're back?" Pidge and the rest poke their heads out from the seats they're still hiding in.

"Yeah. Mission success," Lance says, and there's a mass sigh of relief. Shiro holds his hand out to Wisp and gives her power back, and Lance slumps into the nearest seat. It's about time something went right.

"I'll head back in and signal to Humidica that we ought to leave," Wisp says, and steps back off the bus. The rest of them settle back down; after a minute, Lance gets back up and slips further back into the bus to join Keith.

"I think Innervate fell asleep," Keith says, as Lance all but lies down on the seat opposite him.

"I think a mission a healer can fall asleep during is a mission well done," Lance points out.

"Fair enough." Keith reaches across the aisle to him and Lance takes his hand, and they just relax.

And then the bus door opens again.

"It's me!" Veronica hisses. "They noticed Clairvoyant was missing."

"Figures," Lance says. Someone groans.

"Wisp couldn't tell me how you got him out—you _did_ get him out, right?"

"I'm here," Clairvoyant says, though he doesn’t exactly sound thrilled.

"Good. We're going to have to at least pretend to investigate for a bit—I'll see if we can't cover our tracks. Any tracks I need to cover?"

"Hey, sis." Lance pokes his head out into the aisle. "I threw a couple of snowballs at the alarm in his room. There's probably a puddle." Damn, he should have used his hydrokinesis to hide it. But if it's melted already, Veronica's power might be able to evaporate it.

"I think I can take care of that. Anything else?"

"If there are security cameras there, or in the ladies' room..." Shiro says.

"I'll get Livewire on that. Sit tight, guys. I'll be back soon." And she trots off the bus. Lance groans quietly.

"Something always has to go wrong," Keith says.

"Amen," Hunk says nearby.

It goes quiet again, but it's not a relaxing quiet anymore. Lance wishes he could look out the window but he can't risk it now, and anyway, there's probably nothing to see.

It's a painfully long time before anything happens. Voices approach the bus, talking loud enough to hear but not enough for Lance to make out the words, until the door opens.

"—See what they're hiding," one says.

"I still think he asked them to come because he knew something was gonna happen to him." Heavy footsteps enter the bus and stop.

"Yeah, like they're the ones that took him."

"Or it was a _villain._ They were in the lobby the whole time."

"Well, if they weren't involved, then we won't find anything on here, will we?" The footsteps resume.

And then fucking Lotor stands up and clears his throat.

"Well," he says. "You found me."

The footsteps stop again. "Okay, who the hell are you?"

"Dude, that's Dr. Z's son. The villain."

"You thought Company Rho was hiding something," Lotor says, smoothly but not _totally_ casually. He's nervous. "They were. It's me. I turned myself in and requested asylum from the Association."

He's not giving them away, Lance realizes. He's giving himself up so these randos don't find out what really happened. Shit.

"Fuckin' hell," the first voice says.

"Told you it wasn't Clairvoyant," says the other. "What now?"

"We gotta report this, I guess. I mean, he's a villain. Supposedly."

"Please don't report me," Lotor says, a begging edge to his voice. "My father will have no qualms at having me killed for defying him. I've never hurt anyone—you can look it up. He only called me a villain for refusing to join his organization."

Never hurt anyone? Lance distinctly remembers needing healing after their first encounter. But he supposes he never reported that, specifically—just that they needed assistance.

"You're kinda pathetic," the first voice says. The other hisses. "Whatever. We're gonna deal with this Clairvoyant business first. Greg, keep an eye on him while I talk to the Rhos."

"Uh... sure?" Greg says, and the other leaves the bus. Greg sighs and sits up at the front of the bus.

"I'm not here to cause trouble," Lotor says.

"I sure hope not."

Lotor sighs and sits down again. The bus falls silent.

If the wait before was painful, this is agonizing. Lance does his best not to even breathe; he can see Keith from here and every once in a while they meet eyes, but there's nothing they can do except stay still and wait. Lotor hums something tuneless until Greg tells him to quit it.

And then, finally, the bus doors open once more.

"Sorry about all this," Veronica says, and god Lance has never been so happy to hear her voice.

"Yeah, maybe don't harbor villains in the future." Lance hears Greg stand. "You guys find anything?"

Veronica sighs. "Nothing. With any luck, he'll be ransomed, or we'll be able to track him by the activities of whoever took him. It'll just take time."

"You sure they'll keep him alive? He's pretty annoying."

"He's too useful to kill. I've got this from here, if you want to head back in; the rest of my team is just wrapping up."

"Yeah, all right. Stay out of trouble." And Greg finally, finally steps off the bus. Lance breathes again.

"Jesus." Veronica sinks onto a seat up front. "Everyone okay?"

"Yeah," Pidge and Hunk say in unison. There are a few other murmurs in agreement.

"Quick thinking," Veronica adds; when Lance peeks out, she's looking at Lotor.

"Clairvoyant told me to," he says. Someone snorts.

"If we don't leave in the next 12 minutes, our chances of being caught increase exponentially," Clairvoyant mutters.

"Duly noted," says Veronica.

"Is Innervate still asleep?" Lance asks. "We need to be ready, just in case."

"I wish I was," Innervate says from a row or two back. "I woke up right when those guys came in. What if they'd _seen_ us?"

"Can we not dwell on that," Hunk says.

"We should probably be quieter," says Shiro.

"There is a 5.79% chance," Clairvoyant announces, "that this bus has been bugged."

"Great! You _especially_ can be quieter."

Lance sighs. The sooner they get out of here, the better—back to Boston, where only demons await them. Demons, and Choir Delta.

And, hopefully, Zarkon.


	27. if i can live through this

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [champion - fall out boy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0uhEictEW_c)

As soon as the rest of Company Rho shows up, they're out of there. They head straight back to the warehouse, where Coran is waiting, and then they all pile into several vehicles and _leave._

Lance ends up driving a sedan with Keith in the front passenger seat and Shiro and Lotor in the backseat, with Innervate crammed in between them. No one says hardly a word until they've been on the highway back to Massachusetts for a while.

"There's something that's been bothering me," Keith says eventually. "For a while, actually."

"What's that, babe," Lance says, glancing away from the road; Keith isn’t looking at him, though.

"Lotor." Keith turns in his seat. "You said, during the Crisis, the Association was pitting supers against each other to collect their quin-whatever."

"Quintessence, yes." Lotor sounds dubious.

"I died," Keith says flatly. "Right at the beginning of the Crisis. So why did they bring _me_ back?"

Lance sucks in a breath. He hadn't thought about that—how, out of all the supers who have died, it's Keith who's here and alive. Or, rather, he _has_ thought about it, and came to the conclusion that they were being punished. He just never took Lotor's information into account.

There's a painfully long pause before Lotor responds.

"Shortly after the Sky rift was opened," he says slowly, "my mother died."

"Uh," says Keith.

"It's relevant. Please just listen."

No one says anything. Lotor continues.

"My father was already, well... a demon. His goal was always to suck this world dry. But he changed, after her death. I think the Crisis would not have been as much of a, well, crisis, if it weren't for that." Lotor takes a deep breath. "Either way... he searched for a way to bring her back. He did find one, eventually. He had it tested on a few recently deceased supers. I don't know for sure that you were one."

"Oh," says Keith. There's a soft gasp from Innervate and a surprised murmur from Shiro.

"I had heard it didn’t work, for the most part. That their method was flawed. But the timing is right, and you _are_ alive, as is she." Lotor sighs. "And consider yourself lucky. It would have been as much chance as anything that you were brought back soon enough after your death that you didn't... change."

"You don't know that I didn't," Keith protests half-heartedly.

"I know," Lotor says though, firmly. "Being dead for months on end leaves its mark."

Lance shudders to think what that might mean. The car falls silent again.

* * *

Lance turns off the highway just shy of the National Guard-manned barricades and starts winding through the maze of one-way streets back into the city. They've been separated from the other cars over the course of the journey, but Lance isn't _too_ worried—they picked a rendezvous point at the edge of the city where activity is low, and there's no reason to think Windy will see them coming, if she knew they were gone at all. Even if the scouts see them, they should have time to regroup.

Or maybe he's thought too soon, because they turn the corner to the sound of battle. He's barely braked by the time his passengers are scrambling out of the car; the Rhos and the other half of his group are already gathered, and there's a man—a large, muscled man, with an eyepatch and an arm not unlike Shiro's old one, except that his hand is enormous and clawed—approaching them.

"Sendak," Lotor hisses.

If Lotor knows him, he's bound to be bad news; that doesn't explain why everyone's stopped to meet him, until Lance notices the suspiciously large fist-shaped dent in the hood of another car.

Definitely bad news.

"Who is this guy?" Lance mutters.

"One of Zarkon's inner circle," Lotor says stiffly. "A high-class demon."

Well, shit. They've definitely got Zarkon's attention, then. But that means this guy is bound to be tough to deal with.

No, not just deal with—kill. Sendak may look like a person now (more or less), but if he’s truly a demon, there’s only one way this can end.

Lance pushes through to the front of the group. Up close, Sendak's arm is unattached at the elbow; the lower part is floating at his side when he stops and surveys them all.

"You look weaker than I expected," he rumbles.

"Then tell Zarkon to stop being a coward and come face—"

His arm shoots out, further than should be possible, and grabs Pidge before she can finish. He drags her forward and in milliseconds everyone leaps after her.

Keith charges in directly, along with Iron in his shifted form—by the way Sendak's arm jerks as if dragged down by a sudden weight, Lance suspects Wisp has too. He hangs back with Livewire and Shiro, crouching down to start his ice—if he can keep it out of the way of the others.

Mist creeps up around them as Livewire paces. Iron has Sendak's arm in his jaws but it's still curled around Pidge's torso, keeping her from unfolding her wings even though she struggles to.

"I can't zap him or I'll hit her too," Livewire mutters. "I don't know if it'll travel down his arm."

"Can you run defense at all?" Shiro's popping up forcefields wherever Sendak tries to strike, though Keith at least is pretty good at dodging on his own.

"Not really!"

Lance glances back. Hunk's got a wall up; Coran, Clairvoyant, and Lotor are out of sight, presumably behind it. The three healers have their eyes fixed on the battle, and Veronica is just behind him, calling up the mist. He gets an idea.

"V! How much can you condense this stuff?"

"If I condense it more it'll just be a puddle," Veronica says.

"Do it. Livewire, you're touch range, right? Your power can be conducted, though?"

"Not through ice," Livewire says. "Water, yes."

"What are you planning?" Veronica asks.

"I have hydrokinesis. We just have to get Pidge free."

"Got it." Veronica curls her fingers, and the mist drops like rain onto the street. The moment it's out of her control Lance grabs it, curling it up off the ground and sending it shooting into the fight like a whip.

"Wait for it," he tells Livewire, grabbing the near end like it _is_ a whip, and worms the far end into Sendak's hand. He pushes it into the joints, and then freezes it.

The ice crackles around the joints, forcing them open, and Pidge finally drops free. She scrambles back, and in moments she's spreading her wings and taking flight. The ice whip collapses under its own weight, and it doesn't take long before the ice around Sendak's hand starts to crack.

"Melt it!" Lance shouts, letting go of it entirely, and Keith moves, but Iron gets there first—dousing Sendak in his fire breath. Sendak growls but dodges back hardly the worse for it.

And now Lance has a lot less water to work with, but it's enough. He lifts what he can and stretches it wire-thin. One end wraps around Sendak and his arm—the other he directs to Livewire.

"Now!" he says, and she touches the water. Electricity crackles instantly across it, and Sendak roars.

They hold it until the water evaporates, leaving Sendak smoking on the ground. His arm lies on the ground nearby, unmoving—hopefully totally fried.

But Sendak is still heaving for breath, and he staggers to his feet again. His form ripples, like Lotor had shown them, and in moments he's—monstrous.

He's the same purplish-brown as some of the class fives they've encountered, and near eight feet tall, but his eyes are disturbingly _human_ even if they're yellow. He's not even as spiky or disproportionate as other demons—in fact, he almost looks furry, just a large furry purple _person,_ and somehow that makes him all the more terrifying.

So this a class... six? Seven? If it's even worth numbering when a demon like this is so clearly beyond anything they've ever faced.

"You," Sendak rumbles. "Do you think none have tried to challenge us? You will fall, as everyone before you has fallen."

"You'll fall first," Lance says, and pushes the ice he's been creeping closer right under Sendak's feet. Sendak stumbles, but doesn't fall—not until Pidge swoops down and kicks at his face.

"GO!" Lance and Veronica scream in unison the moment he hits the ground, and their teams charge in. Even Hunk grinds past them into the fray.

And a thick, sudden fog rolls in. Flashes of fire glow through it, telling them exactly where the fight is.

"We're hidden," Veronica pants. "Got anymore plans?"

"Just hit him with everything we've got," Lance says, and starts off into the fog.

The air is clearer around the fight where Keith and Iron are burning the fog away; Pidge, Keith, and Hunk have fallen into a pattern of assault, hammering away at him and then stepping back to let Livewire zap him. Iron is biting where he can and breathing fire when there's no one in his way, and Shiro is still playing defense. Even Innervate has joined in; Allura's flitting in and out of the fight and every once in a while Mute will shout wordlessly, leaving her free to attack as well as heal. And Lance slips in where he can, freezing here, throwing icicles there.

They're doing well, at a glance. But despite being one-handed and a little singed around the edges, Sendak shows no sign of slowing or tiring. Even class fives are wearing down by now, hard as they are to kill; Sendak seems barely affected.

And despite her invisibility, he manages to land a solid hit on Wisp, knocking her visible and sending her tumbling across the street and out of sight in the fog.

"I've got her!" Allura shouts, and disappears.

Hunk takes a brutal hit, then, too, claws dragging with a squeal through his stony chest. Innervate turns to him immediately but he still retreats once healed, and comes to stand, panting, next to Lance.

"We can't keep this up forever," he says. "He's not even tired."

"We just have to find an opening," Lance says. "Go help Shiro with defense. We can't afford to lose anyone else."

"Got it." Hunk trudges off to join Shiro, and Lance looks around the field. The last class five he suffocated, but the one before...

"Pidge!" he calls. "Who has the thingy?"

And Pidge, ever on his wavelength, shouts, "Allura does!"

"Allura!"

She appears next to him. "Here. Wisp will be fine, but she should sit this out for a while, if we can manage without her."

"I hope we can. You have the scepter thing? The luxite?"

"It's in the car—one second." In the blink of an eye she's holding it out to him. "Do you think it will work?"

"I hope so." He doesn't take it, instead glancing at the fight. "Give it to, uh, Keith—Phoenix—you know who he is—okay?"

"On it." In a second, she's closer to the fray and shouting to Keith—he ducks away to grab it from her, and then she's away again and he swings the luxite at Sendak.

Sendak roars—at least that _did_ something. He turns his focus on Keith and Lance doubles his efforts—even though weariness drags him down, even though his arm shakes with pain.

It's a minute or so before Sendak manages to knock the luxite from Keith's hand; before he can grab it, Pidge swoops in and snatches it up. Mute shouts healing at Keith as Sendak's attention turns to Pidge, and Sendak's _finally_ wearing down but the rest of them are _already_ worn.

Sendak takes Livewire down next—Allura must carry her away outside of time, because one moment she's there and the next she isn't. He takes Pidge down in the next moment, and Pidge gets herself away but it's Shiro who lunges for the luxite next—and gets mauled for his effort. Innervate heals him as he tumbles back.

Now Sendak has the luxite, and he swings it at Iron, knocking him back into human form. And even if everyone who was hurt jumps back in—the tide has turned, and it's not in their favor. Maybe with Veronica's power they can escape, Lance thinks frantically. He doesn't see any way they can win now.

And then Keith meets his eye.

"Get everyone back!" Keith hollers.

"What are you gonna do?!" Lance shouts back, because Keith can't possibly take him alone, and he's been hit besides—

"Something drastic!" Keith shouts back.

Right. No time to explain. Lance turns to everyone who's left, standing or not, in the thinning fog.

"You heard him, get back!" he shouts, breaking into a jog away from the fight. "Everyone! Let's move!"

"At least a block!" Keith shouts, fainter with distance, but Lance still hears Sendak respond.

"You really think you can defeat me on your own? You're _nothing_."

If Keith says anything further, Lance doesn't hear it. He focuses on making sure they have everyone—Wisp limping along with Coran and Clairvoyant, Allura supporting Iron, Mute all but carrying Livewire, Innervate leaning on Shiro, and Hunk and Pidge and Veronica and Lotor all trudging along after them. And behind them all, a light growing—fast.

"Hurry!" Lance calls, and then he's shooing everyone into an alley as the light grows unbearably bright.

"It's a burnout." Innervate slumps against the wall next to Lance. "He's gonna try and suffocate him. Someone has to go get him as soon as it's over or he'll suffocate, too."

"I'll go," Pidge says before Lance can even process what Innervate's said. Cold seeps down his spine; it's a risk. It's a huge risk.

But against an opponent like this, maybe risky is the only option.

The light builds, and then blows out in a wave of heat that they feel down two blocks and around a corner. Lance raises a wall of ice with the last of his energy and it's half melted by the time the heat subsides.

And then Pidge takes off.

The quiet is agonizing—there's a muffled crackle-boom in the distance that Lance _prays_ is Sendak dying like any other demon would, but nothing else, until all at once Pidge is swooping back into their alley and dropping a small orange bird into Lance's arms.

The bird turns back into Keith instantly, who groans, and goes from barely supporting his own weight to not supporting it at all, leaving Lance to heave him up into his shaking arms. But he's breathing, and that means he'll be okay.

"Pidge?" he asks, turning and ignoring the screaming pain in his bad arm.

"Dead," Pidge confirms, and everyone sags.

"The luxite?" Allura asks.

"We'll have to go grab it once there's oxygen again," Pidge says, "and once it's cooled off. I tried to get it but it almost burned me."

"That's fine." Lance takes a deep breath. "And now we need to move. Sorry, sorry," he adds as everyone groans. "But CD is still around here somewhere and that was bound to get someone's attention. We can't get caught _now_."

"That's inviting disaster," Pidge grumbles, but she reaches to the nearest sitting person—Veronica—and offers a hand up. With plenty of grumbling, everyone gathers themselves, and Allura comes and places a hand on Lance's arm. The pain is soothed, but not eradicated. Hunk approaches.

"You want me to take him?" he offers.

"No," Lance says, adjusting his grip to settle Keith more firmly against his chest. "I've got him."

They set off. They don't get far before Livewire points out an apartment building with an open door, and Lance doesn't have the heart or the energy to tell everyone they haven't gone far enough. They're several blocks away, they'll be inside, they'll probably be fine. They can rest for the night—the sun is getting low on the horizon, the darkness will help—and in the morning they can gather themselves and head to the next spawn point and close it, and do it again, and again, until Zarkon comes to face them himself. Hopefully, then, they'll be ready.

Pidge heads back out to grab the luxite while Lance sets Keith—still unconscious—onto the sofa, and everyone else gets settled. Lance means to stay up and wait for her to come back, but, like everyone else, the moment he settles onto even a moderately comfortable surface—in this case, the end of the sofa, draped over Keith’s legs—he's out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well that went well :D


	28. when hands are tied and clocks are ticking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [the projectionist - sleeping at last](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EDLTyyKHzJs)
> 
> HI YES IM ALIVE and i FINISHED MY MASTERS THESIS which means i finally have time to finish this thing, in theory. hell yeah. \o/

Lance wakes up slowly.

The aches are the first thing he notices; his entire body hurts, but especially his arm. He takes a moment to contemplate this, and the fact that he's only going to be running around and fighting more today, probably, and groans inwardly.

And then he remembers he didn't stay awake for Pidge. Shit. Well, she's bound to be okay, and if she'd been unsuccessful, she would've woken him and told him. So they're all good on that front.

Huh, this sofa isn't as comfortable as he thought it was last night. He should probably get up before he ruins his back permanently. And he can hear people moving around, so he really ought to get up either way.

He tries to move his arm to test how stiff it is, and only then does he realize his wrists are bound in front of him.

His eyes snap open. He's sitting on the ground; his group and Veronica's team and even Coran are still asleep, similarly bound and left slumped in this unfamiliar room. And standing in front of him is Windrunner, looking down at him.

"You're awake," she says, and it’s a little sad, but not sad enough.

"Fuck," says Lance.

"You shouldn't have come back, you realize," she says, plopping down crosslegged in front of him. "I didn't want to do this."

"You did it anyway," Lance points out. He wiggles around, trying to get into a better position—and really, did she think mere rope could hold him? He tries to ice it.

And can't.

"You forced my hand," Windy continues, ignoring his struggle. "They figured out pretty quick you'd been to Connecticut, and that you'd run right back once you got what you’d gone for. I don't know where you hid Clairvoyant, but we're going to find him soon enough."

Well, at least Clairvoyant got out. Honestly, though, he could've given them a warning or something. Maybe the chances this would happen were too low. Maybe he really was on the Association’s side the whole time. Figures.

Lance doesn't see Pidge here, either. That's something. If Pidge and the luxite are out of the Association's hands, with or without Clairvoyant, then not _all_ hope is lost.

"Good luck with that," Lance says belatedly. Windy makes a face.

"Considering Duke Fortune deserted after Innervate? I'll need it." She straightens and nods back over her shoulder to a man Lance doesn't recognize. "They sent us Somnus in his place. I'm sure you can guess his power."

With a name like _Somnus?_ That must be why everyone fell asleep so quickly. But if they found them so easily, then...

"We walked right into a trap, didn't we?" Lance sighs.

"Yup." Windy shrugs. "Don't get me wrong, I didn't like that Sendak guy, but he got results. Until you killed him."

"Windy. Sendak was a _demon_."

She frowns at that. "Ice, I met the guy. Face-to-face. You realize that, right? He was a jerk, sure, but he was definitely human."

"He _was_ a demon. It's some kind of high-class demon thing—like a superpower, disguising themselves. Lotor can do it too. Lotor—" ...Is not here either. "Where's Lotor?"

Windy raises an eyebrow. "Dr. Zarkon's son? Already on his way back to headquarters." She leans forward. "Ice, have you lost your mind? Claiming random Association members are _demons?_ And running around—stealing bits of demon corpses and kidnapping Clairvoyant? What are you even trying to do?"

Lance groans and throws his head back, bumping it painfully against the wall. "Can't you go look at his corpse? That'll prove it."

"The Association already collected it. For his _funeral_."

"Then..." Shit, they're covering their tracks well. What else can he say— "The Fenway spawn point."

She sighs. "What about it."

"It's closed. We closed it. Have you been over there, lately? Did you see? I've only been trying to _fix things,_ Windy. Please believe me."

And here, at last, she hesitates.

"Just go check," he presses. "It'll only take you a few minutes to go and check. Before you turn us in or anything."

She pinches the bridge of her nose, and then stands. She looks away.

"I'll check," she says lowly, "but I can't see it making a difference, at this point. Dr. Zarkon's already on his way." And she walks away.

Lance goes cold. They finally got what they wanted—to face Zarkon personally. He just didn't think it would happen like _this._

And, when he actually looks at the people in the room who aren't bound—there's CD, including Somnus, and a man Lance suspects is their new healer, but there are also several others with the Association logo printed on their shirts. It's not just CD that's caught them; they've already fallen into the Association's hands.

They are so royally fucked.

One of the Association people approaches him then, standing just out of kickable range. He scratches at his sideburn.

"That rope has luxite in it," he says casually. "Not enough to make you forget, but enough to keep you from using your powers. Don't bother trying."

Lance scowls at him.

"Also," the man says, lower, "Ulaz is with your friends." And he turns and walks away.

Lance gapes.

And then he realizes he's gaping and quickly schools his face back into a frown, because there are still Association members here. But if _this_ guy knows Ulaz, then he's one of the people Ulaz mentioned, the ones who stayed to figure out what's going on. Allies inside the system.

Maybe they have a chance at getting out of this.

He tries to catch the eye of someone else who's awake; Shiro's focused on his knees, and Innervate's sobbing quietly into her hands—that must have been an awful reunion. It's Mute he finally meets eyes with.

"Hey," Lance says quietly. "How are you holding up?"

"Fine," he says solemnly. And then, "Midi won't be happy."

Lance raises an eyebrow. "I don't think any of us are happy about this."

Mute shakes his head. "She just got you back," he says.

_We thought you'd fucking died._

Lance glances over at Keith, who's still sleeping. How would he have felt if they'd all gotten _captured_ by the _Association_ two days after he'd come back? Even before they knew what the Association truly was?

Bile rises in his throat. He swallows it back.

"You're right," he says, once he can speak again, and Mute nods silently. Lance looks down.

They just have to hold out, wait for an opening, and hope sideburns guy and the handful of people still free can get to them in time. In the meantime, all they can do is stay alive.

"Lance," Shiro says, and he looks up.

Shiro looks... okay. He's pale and drawn, but calm. This probably doubly sucks for him, but he isn't panicking and that's something.

"How are you holding up?" Lance asks softly.

"I'm okay," Shiro says steadily. "Are you?"

"As well as can be expected," Lance says. Shiro nods.

"I heard them talking earlier," he says, lower. "It sounds like Pidge closed the waterfront spawn point."

Lance sits up. "On her own?"

Shiro shrugs. "She could have flown in and done it, I think. I don't know for sure. They were only talking about density of demonic activity." He pauses. "The city's under quarantine now."

"We left." And just one team was never going to be enough. Are they even still in the city, or were they taken away in their sleep? Ugh. "Heard anything else interesting?"

"Besides that Zarkon is coming to murder us in person? No."

"Well." Lance brings his knees up and rests his bound wrists on them. "We aren't dead _yet_."

Shiro just sighs.

* * *

Windy never leaves the room. To her credit, she tries; the Association people stop her. She doesn’t disobey.

He should have known they’d keep her from seeing any proof that might bring her around to their side. Really, why did he ever think otherwise?

* * *

Lance's sense of time passing isn't great right now, but it's probably around an hour before everyone's awake. Keith is on the other side of the room; Hunk had tried to scoot closer to Shiro and got threatened, so they all stayed put, and Lance and Keith are pretty good at the facial conversation thing but there's only so much they can say. Not that there's much to say, anyway.

There's been no sign of anything. No sign of rescue, but no sign of Zarkon's imminent arrival, either. The wait is torture.

That doesn't make it a relief when the door opens, though. Lance tells Keith he loves him with a look, and Keith returns it.

It's not Zarkon, though. It's a woman—a haggard, grey woman, stooped and gnarled. She looks like a walking corpse.

"Madam Honerva!" one of the Association people greets, and Lance's blood runs cold. So this is what Lotor meant—she may be alive now, but it doesn't look like she _should_ be.

Honerva doesn't respond, just casts a filmy eye across the silent room. It's a long moment before she speaks, and when she does her voice is as shriveled and rotting as the rest of her.

"Luxite ropes?" she grates.

"Yes, ma'am," says sideburns guy, nodding in a way that’s almost a bow.

"That won't do." She shuffles back toward the door. "Bring them to me, individually. Start with Champion."

The door swings shut behind her, leaving the room silent. For a minute, everyone is frozen. Sideburns guy is the first to move; he visibly gathers himself with a sigh and waves the others over, and they approach Shiro. Shiro lets them drag him to his feet, face stony.

God—Lance can’t just watch this happen, not after everything. But it’s Hunk who moves first.

"No," he says. "Wait a minute, no." He staggers up to his feet. "You're not just gonna _take_ him—"

An Association member knees him in the stomach, hard, and Shiro steps toward him but he's jerked back. Hunk wheezes, but stays standing.

"Hunk, I'll be fine. Sit down, I'll be fine," Shiro says quickly, even though everyone else is poised to leap to their feet too. One of the Association people brandishes her taser at them.

"They're gonna _kill you_ ," Hunk gasps, clutching his stomach.

"I'll be fine."

They exchange a look—maybe Lance and Keith weren't the only ones having eyebrow conversations—and Hunk finally sits down.

They lead Shiro away. Windy won't meet Lance's eye.

This can't be it, Lance thinks desperately, even though the sinking feeling in his stomach tells him it has to be. This can't be the end of everything. Not like _this._

But they take Iron next, then Allura. Lance holds Veronica's gaze until they take her, too. Then Livewire. They hesitate at Coran, but after a whispered discussion, take him, too.

When they come for Keith Lance decides he’s going to fight them, even if it kills him, because god help him he is not going to watch the love of his life die again—he’s kicked in the ribs the moment he moves. He hadn’t even seen the man standing there next to him, and from where he’s wheezing on the floor he has a perfect view of Keith getting tased when he struggles.

They drag Keith away and Lance can only _watch._

Hunk helps him sit back up, when he can breathe again, and Lance curls on himself, feeling like shards of ice are blooming in his chest. Windy switches from looking at the wall, to the floor. When they come for Innervate, next, she walks out, and the rest of Choir Delta follows. They don’t stop her this time.

Hunk is next, and then they come for Lance.

Sideburns guy gives him a tight-lipped look and he gets the feeling that whatever's happening is unexpected, and unplanned for.

And shit, his friends, Keith, they could already be dead. They're never even gonna get to face Zarkon, bound or not; he was probably never even coming. After everything, they still weren't worth the trouble.

He follows sideburns guy numbly out of the room.

They're in a big old house—it must be somewhere in Brookline, not technically Boston but close enough to be abandoned. Lance is led up creaky stairs with rich carpeting, down wood paneled hallways, into a parlor with sumptuous, dusty furniture. There’s a tipped wooden table and a broken glass lamp sprawled across a lavish rug, and he wonders distantly which one of them struggled here, and if it helped. He doubts it.

Honerva is there waiting. She doesn't move, doesn't speak, until Lance is brought before her.

"Like the others," she rasps.

"Ma'am, they already can't use their powers," sideburns guy offers tentatively. "So, if you don't mind me asking... why are we doing this?"

From the look on Honerva's face, she very much does mind being asked. She reaches for something on the desk beside her with a gloved hand, and only then does Lance notice the box there, and the metal—shackles?—within.

"They don't need to know why they're being punished," she says, lifting one out of the box. Lance tries to pull away, a last ditch effort—but the Association members holding him keep him in place, and cold metal closes around his wrist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	29. staring down the barrel of a gun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [live like we're dying - kris allen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9AC8-H3urAE)
> 
> this chapter broke my heart :) have fun :)

Lance blinks. This isn't where he was a moment ago—not that he knew where that was, either, thinking about it. He feels sort of slow, sluggish, like he's woken suddenly from a deep sleep.

There are people holding his arms, or, at least, there were; they let go the moment he realizes they're there, and he's left rubbing his wrists, though why they or his whole left arm are so sore, he's not sure. There's a woman in front of him who he's not convinced isn't a corpse, even when she nods to someone behind him.

"Um," he says, glancing around. This place is nice and totally unfamiliar. Dusty, too. "Where am I? What's going on?"

"Don't worry about it," one of the alive-looking uniformed people sighs. He gestures for Lance to follow, so Lance does, but not before looking hard at the room, like that’ll tell him what’s happening.

It doesn’t. But there's definitely something wrong here, and Lance is gonna find out what. Has he been kidnapped or something? Last time he thought he'd just drunk too much, but these guys aren't the sort he'd go drinking with. And he feels achy, mostly in a went-too-hard-at-the-gym way, not in a hangover way. Mostly, because the pain in his arm feels more like a _burn._

He's beginning to wonder if, maybe instead of a night or two of hard drinking, he's forgotten a lot more.

A sick feeling stirs in his stomach, and he watches his own feet as he walks across somebody's fancy runner. Isn't this the kind of rug that costs, like, tens of thousands of dollars? Does this house belong to that corpse woman? What could someone rich like this want with someone like him? Why doesn't he recognize his own outfit—whose clothes are these?

He's shown into a room before he can work himself up into a full panic, and there's a bunch of people he doesn't recognize but two he does.

"Guys!" Lance jogs over to Veronica and Keith, who turn at his voice. "Do you know what's going on? Keith, I think you did, last time."

But Keith looks at him blankly. "Last time? We've been kidnapped before?"

"So we were kidnapped?"

"That's just our theory," says Veronica. "We all have no memory of coming here, we're all wearing these things, that's it. And Keith is allergic to his." She lifts her wrist to show him the bangle she's wearing; he'd noticed his before but hadn't thought much of it considering the rest of his clothes were also strange. But Keith is wearing one too, and his skin is an angry red around it. Lance tugs at his own and finds it too tight to remove.

"Super weird," Lance mutters.

"You said this happened before?" Keith prompts.

"Yeah. Yeah." Lance gathers himself. They need to figure this out. "We were in, like, an abandoned store. There was a girl, and a guy called Hunk, and they said I was touching something. No—they said something about _moving_ something, and then once you showed up you guys were talking about me touching something. 'Shiro's restraint,' is what the girl called it. I don't remember touching anything or what it looked like, though. And I don't remember _stopping_ touching it, but I think that was like, the last thing I did? Before the, I guess, the gap in my memory between that and this." Lance pauses. "Also you thought I was gonna cry. I dunno if I did or not."

"...Are you sure this wasn't a weird dream?" Veronica asks. The uniformed people return and send another person in, a young black man with the same bangle on his wrist.

"Yeah. Why would I remember _that_ when I don't remember anything else?"

Veronica shrugs. Keith looks around the room.

"Are either of those other people here? I don't recognize anyone," he says.

Lance looks around too. He doesn't see the girl, but—there, the Hunk guy. He's pacing back and forth along a short path, hands clenching and unclenching under his chin like he's trying not to panic. Lance starts towards him.

"Hey!" he says, and the guy jumps. "Uh. Hunk, right?"

"Nnnno?" the guy says. "Um. I guess I'm flattered, though? Was that supposed to be a pick up line or something?"

“...Huh.” Lance is _certain_ it's him, though.

"If I don't remember, maybe he doesn't either," Keith says at his elbow. Right, there's that.

"Never mind, I guess," Lance says. He offers an apologetic smile and turns away.

"Wait, do you know what's going on?" The guy catches his arm. "I'm _freaking out,_ here."

"Not... really," Lance says. "Just, the last thing I remember, I was with you and Keith and some girl, and you guys knew what was going on. But no one explained anything."

The guy shakes his head. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure I've never met you before. And I _definitely_ don't know what's going on."

The uniformed people return again, this time showing in a short-haired blonde girl. The door shuts behind them.

Something _thumps_ above them.

Lance looks up in time to see a fist—a _metal_ fist?—punch through the ceiling. He hops out of the way of the resulting shower of dust, eyes fixed on the fist, which retracts and punches down next to the hole it's already left.

"What the fuck," Keith murmurs beside him.

The fist punches through a couple more times before the ceiling gives way, and the person the fist is attached to tumbles into the room. He staggers back up quickly, shaking off most of the dust and rubbing his face--he looks rough, and not only in a just-fell-out-of-the-ceiling way. There’s an old scar across his nose but several bruises and cuts on his face and arms that look recent. He looks around, and his eyes settle on Lance and the-guy-who-isn't-called-Hunk.

"Ice," he says. "Hunk. Thank god I found you. We need to get out of here."

"He thinks that's my name too?" not-Hunk squeaks.

"Did you just call me _Ice?_ " Lance asks. "Wait, do you know what's going on? Where are we? Who are you?" He doesn't have a bracelet like the rest of them do, and he's looking at them like he knows them. And he just fell through the goddamn ceiling.

Ceiling guy frowns at him, then at the bracelets they're all wearing, then at his metal arm. His eyes widen.

"You don't remember, either?" he asks in a careful tone. “There's a big blank spot in my memory. I don't know how we got here.” He pauses. “If you don’t remember… Before that, there’s a bigger blank, ever since—late summer, I think, a couple years ago. Well, I guess if you've forgotten you wouldn't know how long it's been, but if it’s that time of year—look, what's the last thing you _do_ remember?"

"The last thing _I_ remember is standing in an abandoned shop with these two and a girl, and touching something I apparently should not have been touching," Lance says. "Before that... yeah, late summer. Me and Keith were about to go back to school."

"That's the last thing _I_ remember," Keith adds.

" _School_ ," the guy mutters under his breath. "Ice—whatever your name is. What were you touching?"

Finally a question Lance can answer with certainty. "They called it 'Shiro's restraint.'"

The guy's face falls. " _I'm_ Shiro," he says. He looks at his arm again. "Damn. I was _right_."

"About?" not-Hunk prompts.

"This is... hard to explain." Shiro takes a deep breath. "Superheroes are real now.”

If they weren’t all mysteriously gathered here with mysterious amnesia—if this mysterious man hadn’t just punched his way through the goddamn ceiling—Lance would call bullshit. But fuck, this is weird enough as it is, so he listens.

“Is started in late August, maybe early September, just after whatever you last remember. There was a crisis for a couple of years before the Association got things under control, but I don't remember any of that either; they told me I was in an accident at the end of it and lost my memory, but I always thought—well, I'm getting to that. The point is that the last thing _I_ remember, I was with you, and you." He looks at Lance and not-Hunk in turn. "You guys were—are—superheroes, and I was helping you fight demons.”

And just like that, he takes a nosedive off the end of _too weird._

“One of them ripped my arm off,” Shiro continues. What the _fuck._ “I had a prosthetic just like this." He waves his metal arm—it's covered in markings that Lance doesn’t recognize and no longer believes are purely decorative. "I had this feeling that I'd been a superhero, too, or... more likely, a villain, somehow, judging by the way people looked at me. And if you were touching my _restraint,_ and that's all you remember, Ice, then—"

The door opens, and the corpse woman walks in. She stops when she sees everyone clustered in the middle of the room—because of course everyone else has gathered around Shiro to hear what he's saying. She looks up at the ruined ceiling, and then down, and then she spots Shiro.

" _You_ ," she hisses, and then she darts sideways, impossibly fast—so fast it's like there are a dozen of her around the room. Someone screams. Keith tries to put himself between Lance and the woman, like there aren't twelve of her. Lance tries to just fucking cope.

"Shit," Shiro says. "Okay." And he grabs his metal wrist with his real hand and _wrenches._

The arm pops off, and Shiro gasps. He blinks a couple times, and then he drops the arm and turns to Lance.

"Lance," he says, and why the hell does he suddenly know his name? "I'm going to borrow something from you. I'll give it right back."

He grabs Lance's hand. Lance is about to protest when Shiro's hand goes suddenly ice-cold—but it's not his hand, it's literal ice, that spreads across Lance's wrist and slides between his skin and the bracelet until it lifts the metal away from his skin entirely.

* * *

Lance remembers why they're here now.

"You with me yet?" Shiro asks.

"Shit," says Lance. "Yeah. Push it out more, you can break the thing off—hurry. Don't worry about hurting me." Shiro nods.

"Lance?" Keith asks.

"In a sec, babe." Lance watches the ice build— _ow,_ his wrist—and then the luxite bracelet _does_ snap off. Shiro gives him back his power the second it's gone and Lance shakes the ice free. "Shiro, can you hold her off? I'm gonna free everyone."

"Yeah. Do Humidica first so she can hide us."

"Good idea." Lance turns to Veronica. "Hey, long story, gimme your hand."

"You know what's going on _now?_ " she asks as she does. There's a screech and the sound of crackling lightning behind him.

"Yeah, and in a moment so will you," he says, and snaps her bracelet off.

"Oh," she says, rubbing her wrist. "Right."

"Yep." Lance turns toward Keith. "Keith—actually, wait. How bad is the allergy?”

“Not that bad,” Keith says, though his brow is all scrunched up and he keeps glancing towards the noises behind them. “I'll live.”

“Then, defense first, sorry.” Lance turns. “Afu."

"Oh no," Hunk says, backing away with hands held up. "No, I don't wanna die."

"Good, that's what I'm doing this for." Lance grabs his arm as mist rises around them. There's a shout nearby, and he just manages to snap Hunk's bracelet off before something crashes into him from behind, knocking them both down.

"Ow," Shiro groans above him, and Hunk echoes it below. Then Hunk shifts, rolling them both off him and raising a wall at their feet just in time to block a blast of something.

"Lance?!" Keith shouts nearby. The fog is thick already—he can barely see Shiro getting up two feet away.

"EVERYONE SCATTER!" Lance hollers from the floor. Veronica comes and helps him up.

"I can tell where everyone is in my fog," she says hurriedly. "So I can tell which one is the real her. Get me Iron, if you can, and then the healers."

"Yeah. Tell Shiro who to fight," he says. "Iron is—where?"

"That way." She gives him a shove in the right direction. He pushes through the fog and all but collides with Iron, startling them both.

"Don't touch me!" Iron jumps back and nearly out of sight.

"I'm here to help!" Lance quickly says over the sounds of fighting nearby. Iron eyes him suspiciously but lets Lance get ahold of his arm, and then it's a matter of moments before his bracelet is off too. He still shakes him off as soon as it is.

"Where's Midi?" he asks, already shifting into wyrm form.

"Back there." Lance nods behind him, and Iron gallops off. Lance twists around in the dense fog. Now to find the healers—well, he knows two of their names, at least.

"Lucy!" he calls. "Romelle!"

"I'm here!" Innervate finds him first, and she grabs his arm before he can grab hers. "You know what's going on, right? I need this bracelet off?"

"Right." At least she's not gonna fight him on this. She offers her wrist and he breaks her bracelet off. She breathes deeply and scans the fog.

"No one's hurt _yet_ ," she says. "I'll be by Bunker."

"Good idea." He watches her jog away into the fog. "Lucy?" he calls again.

"Where are you?" Allura calls back.

"Here!" he shouts. The battle is somewhere to his right, and she's to his left; he starts off in that direction.

"Shit," Veronica says loudly, out of sight. "Keith!"

Lance stops and wheels around. Dammit, he can't see a thing. "V? What's happening?"

"Clear the room, Humidica," Haggar rasps, and Veronica does, and through the thinning fog Lance can finally see across the room—to Keith, and the crackling ball of energy Haggar's holding inches from his face.

Fuck, no. No, no, no.

And Haggar looks right at him. "Surrender," she says.

"Don't do it, Lance!" Keith is straining away from her, though she's got a claw-like grip on his arm and despite her looks is apparently strong enough to hold him. He's still got his bracelet on. He has no idea what's at stake.

And he has no idea why, even with the fate of the world in his hands, Lance hesitates.

"Lance," Shiro says quietly. Lance glances at him, and he looks stricken, but his eyes are wide and pleading anyway. The message is clear—don't do it.

Lance can see the chain of events as clearly as if he were Clairvoyant. Because of all of them, only Lance’s power is suitable for breaking the bracelets and freeing everyone—maybe Iron, maybe Hunk, if they’re willing to risk a few hands. Shiro’s holding out fine one-handed, but, well, they aren’t all Shiro, and Innervate can only heal so much.

And with only half of the group free so far... Well, _maybe_ they could defeat her, if they were very lucky, and alone. Not with everyone else to protect, too.

And it's already clear whatever their allies in the Association were planning won't come in time to help. Everything will be up to Pidge, Clairvoyant, and Duke Fortune—and that’s a long shot, even _with_ Duke’s luck.

In short: if Lance surrenders, everyone in this room is lost, and, probably, the world with them. He can't put Keith before everything and everyone else, and he knows that.

It doesn't mean it isn't tearing his heart to pieces.

"Please," Keith says. "Don't do it."

Lance takes a deep breath. He lifts his empty hands in surrender.

"No!" Shiro shouts, Keith shouts, Veronica, Innervate—

And Lance forms an icicle in one hand, sharp and straight, and flings it at Haggar.

The ball of energy dissipates, and Haggar hauls Keith in front of her, and for the second time in his life, Lance sees one of his icicles pierce into Keith's chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _:)_


	30. come on, give us one more spark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [battle born - the killers](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zPJQQeeYDYI)
> 
> DONT PANIC but.... there _is_ an onscreen death in this chapter. its not gruesome or anything but. so you know.

The room springs into action—Iron darts forward, catching Keith as Haggar tosses him aside; Shiro makes a barrier to block the blast Haggar throws at Iron; Veronica raises fog again and Hunk starts walling Haggar in. Innervate comes and thumps Lance on the back hard and he gasps for air.

"Breathe," she says hurriedly. "He's not dead yet, but, _time_ —get Allura."

Right. Allura can stop time. Allura can save him. Lance turns and catches a glimpse of her through the thickening fog.

"Iron!" he calls, and he runs. "Lucy!"

Iron reaches him before he gets to Allura. He's got Keith held loosely in his jaws; Lance scrambles to take him, and Keith sags in his arms, unresponsive. Shit. He lays him down quickly.

"Oh, no." Allura finally arrives; Lance waves her closer. God, his icicle's still there; he doesn't dare pull it out.

"Hurry!" He grabs for Allura's hand; she recoils at the ice but he holds on tight. "Sorry, sorry, this'll make sense in a sec."

"What are you—" She wrenches her hand away, or rather, starts—she stops almost the moment she's broken free of him. "Oh." She sucks in a breath.

Everything goes eerily silent. She drops to her knees at Keith's side.

"Allura?" Lance tries.

"I've stopped time for the both of us," she says. So his ice got the bracelet away from her skin, at least. "You can get this thing off me in a second; Keith first."

Lance breathes again. "What do you need me to do?"

Allura places her hands on Keith's chest. "Pull the icicle out, and any of it that melted already. Try not to get too much of his blood with it. This wound is too deep to fully heal outside of time, so we'll have to do this in stages. But it feels like Innervate already started the process, so he still has a chance."

Okay. Okay. Keith is so still beneath him as Lance reaches for the icicle—it's because Allura stopped time, he'll be fine, he'll be fine...

The icicle is bloody when he removes it, and when he follows up with the hydrokinesis he can sort of feel the places where broken veins and arteries are ready to flood the wound. He swallows and forces himself to look up at Allura.

"Done," he says. She nods.

"Here we go." He can't see what she does—but then, for a moment, sound resumes, and Keith _jerks_ and freezes again with mouth open like he's about to scream. Lance looks away—is he shaking? He just has to hold it together.

"Stay with me," Allura murmurs, and she might not be talking to him, but he breathes in anyway. He finds his fingernails digging into his palms and consciously relaxed his hands.

It happens a few times—Allura does some part of the healing and unfreezes time just long enough to let it take, and Keith wakes screaming moment by moment, and Lance can only sit and _watch_ and _wait_ and shove Keith’s _blood_ back in his veins when she tells him to.

In actual time, it probably takes about twenty seconds. In their bubble of stasis, still only a few minutes. But Lance feels like he's aged a lifetime by the time Allura finally sits back on her heels and tucks a few loose strands of her hair back behind her ear with the back of her bloody hand.

"Done. Here." She holds her wrist out; the ice is starting to melt and is dripping down her fingers. "Try to get some of the blood off with it, if you can. I think I'll be healing many more after this."

Lance takes a deep breath, tries to focus. He snaps Allura's bracelet off, and gathers what's melted for her to rinse the blood away.

"Lance," she says. "He's fine now. I promise. He's fine."

Lance picks up Keith's hand, the one with his bracelet, the one missing a finger and a half. He wants to believe her, but it's a hard thing to get through his head when Keith is so still, even if he's frozen mid-scream.

But they have work to do.

He ices Keith's bracelet off, too. The skin of his wrist is still red like a burn. It's not a priority.

"I'm letting go now," Allura warns. "Get ready. The fight's just beginning."

"I know," Lance says. The panic is draining into a tense focus, a high-wire walk. "I'm ready." Allura nods.

Keith screams.

The noise around them resumes, the swirling of the fog, and Keith seizes upward into a ball and Lance catches him—hauls him all but into his lap and holds him tight.

"I've got you," he says, "I've got you, you're okay, you're okay."

" _Lance_." Keith clings onto him hard, and they breathe in together, and out, and in and out.

And then they lean away, untangle, get up off the bloodstained rug. Livewire has found them and she's hovering nearby, turning the bracelet around and around on her wrist and glancing aside into the fog. Veronica, out of sight, yells for Iron to duck.

"I gotta get in there," Keith says. He's got a hand on his chest, covering the hole in his shirt.

"Yeah." Lance pulls him in and kisses him deep and fast, just in case. Shiro shouts for a healer.

And then Keith breaks away and jogs into the fog. Lance turns to Livewire.

"Okay," he says. "You want that off?"

* * *

After Livewire he hunts down Wisp and Mute, keeping an ear on the battle taking place nearby. Coran is nowhere to be found and Lance doesn't remember seeing him, so he must have been kept separate like Shiro was—they'll have to find and rescue him after.

And with everyone free, all that's left to do is fight. He makes his way through the fog back to Veronica.

"How are we doing?" he asks.

"Could be better," she says. "We can't figure out what exactly her power is—she might have more than one. I think our best bet is to get one of those luxite things on her; your water power might be the best bet for that."

"You'll need to get me some water, then," he says. There are still a couple broken bracelets on the floor nearby; they'll do.

"I can do that." The fog congeals around them, and Lance gathers the water that falls and sweeps up a couple bracelets within it.

"Meet up with Livewire on the left," Veronica suggests, and Lance nods and heads in.

The fog is thinner around Honerva, probably because Keith and Iron are burning it away. She seems to have given up on cloning herself but she's still having no trouble keeping everyone back and keeping the healers busy.

Lance steps forward next to Livewire, carrying his water with him. Honerva meets his eye—she lifts her hands but Shiro calls up a barrier and her lightning doesn't reach him.

"Gonna need you in a sec," Lance tells Livewire, and then he flings the water at Honerva. She blasts it back but he keeps pushing it towards her, regathering what splashes away.

The moment it touches, Livewire is there. Honerva screams as she's electrocuted, until he uses the water to press the bracelets against her exposed forearms. Then she bunches in on herself, and Livewire stops, and everything goes quiet.

And then Honerva straightens up and electrocutes the water herself. Livewire and Lance both jump out of the way and the water falls—Honerva grabs one of the bracelets and wrenches it away from her arm. It's left a red mark, nothing more—like the demons they fought with the luxite scepter before.

"My powers are nothing like yours," she hisses, tossing it away. She lifts her hands high until energy crackles all around her, keeping Keith and Iron back—then she brings her hands down hard. The blast knocks Lance off his feet and he skids almost all the way back to Veronica and Hunk; Livewire huffs on the floor beside him.

" _Now_ what?" she says.

"Ranged," Lance says. He scrambles back up. "Everyone! Attack at range!"

"Unless we do the water thing, I can't," Livewire says. Keith emerges from the fog nearby.

"Hang tight and wait for an opening, then. I’ll be there in a sec." The flashes of light through the fog resume—Iron can probably still attack, and Shiro can for sure, but it doesn't all look like fire or lightning. Innervate must be using Incandia's power, too.

"Can't see much from here," Keith says to Livewire, nodding back over his shoulder. She sighs and gets to her feet to trudge back towards battle. Keith glances around before he steps closer to Lance.

"Does this look like an allergic reaction to you?" he asks quietly, lifting his red wrist. "Because it feels more like a burn."

"You aren't a demon, Keith." But he's right—it doesn't look like any rash Lance has ever seen.

"I don't think _she_ is, either," Keith says, and he's right about that, too.

"We'll figure it out after," Lance says. Keith nods, and together they head back towards the fight.

There's shouting, though, before they get close enough to see Honerva clearly—new voices. Lance and Keith exchange a look and hurry a few steps closer.

Sideburns guy is there, now—a woman Lance doesn't recognize is beside him, holding a bloody knife. Behind them—Pidge, Duke Fortune, Ulaz, and Clairvoyant.

And in front of them, Honerva is hunched, clutching her chest. Slowly, so slowly, she topples over, collapsing in a graceless heap.

"You may clear the fog now," Ulaz calls. Veronica does.

The improved visibility doesn't actually clarify anything.

"Captain!" Pidge runs for Lance and all but leaps into his arms. He catches her, still reeling. "Thank _god_ you're not dead. Clairvoyant said the chances weren't great."

"Uh," says Lance.

"Fortunately, we seem to be in the best possible timeline," Clairvoyant offers, tugging his mustache. "For now."

Hey, Coran's there in the doorway, that's good too. Everyone's here. Lance is still a little lost.

"What the hell just happened?" Keith asks.

"Honerva is dead," the mystery woman says, flat like she hadn't just apparently been the one to kill her. She's cleaning the knife with a handkerchief. "But we aren't out of danger yet."

"Hello again, Authority Tau... and friends," Ulaz says. "This is Krolia and Thace, two of my associates within GALRAS." He nods to the woman and sideburns guy in turn. Pidge finally detaches from Lance.

"Clairvoyant followed me out last night. He said our best chance of luring Zarkon in was to let the rest of you get captured," she says. "Which I was totally against, by the way, but he said you could probably handle it, and then Ulaz showed up with Duke, and then when Krolia found us we knew it had worked. So." She shrugs. "Sorry you got captured. Apparently, this was our best option."

Oh. Okay. Lance looks at Clairvoyant. "Some warning would have been nice."

Clairvoyant only shrugs.

"Speaking of warnings," Krolia says, tucking her knife away, "we need to leave."

"She's right," says Thace. "Zarkon _is_ on his way. I don't think this is the place to face him."

"Shit, this is happening," Lance mutters—somehow he thought they'd have more time. Keith takes his hand and squeezes it. Krolia eyes them.

"Let's go, then," Veronica says, and the whole crowd converges on the door. Ulaz leads the way; Krolia ends up beside Lance and Keith in the muddle in the hallway. She grabs Keith's other arm.

"You're Keith?" she asks.

"...Yeah?" Keith glances back at Lance—Lance has no answers, he's just taking this as it comes—before looking up at her. She's taller than both of them. "How do you know my name?"

"You had a reaction to the luxite," she says, nodding down at his wrist. They all spill out onto the sidewalk, and Thace waves them down along a street lined with enormous old houses and newer apartment buildings.

"Not sure how that told you my name," Keith says slowly.

"I'm your mother," she says.

Keith stumbles over a crack in the sidewalk and nearly takes Lance down with him—hell, Lance almost trips on his own. They both stare at her.

" _You?_ " Keith finally sputters.

"I realize this isn't a good time for this," she says. They turn onto a main street with trolley tracks down the middle. "But this may be the only time. I never would have left you if I knew all this would happen, but the situation at the time was... complicated."

"Uh."

"I came here with Zarkon," she says, "long before the rest of the demons."

 _The rest._ Implying...

"Wait," says Lance. "You're—Keith is—"

"Yes." Color flickers across her skin—purple markings, yellow eyes. Not as monstrous as some they've seen, but...

She replaces her glamour quickly, but there's no denying it—she's a demon, too.

Keith is shuffling along, still staring at her. He stumbles again.

" _Why?_ " he finally asks.

"Not all of us are loyal to Zarkon," she says. "I came as a spy. I took a human form to blend in, like the rest. I... fell in love with your father."

"Did he know?"

"He did." Krolia frowns ahead at nothing. "I had to leave before Zarkon could find out about you. I'm sorry."

Keith goes quiet. They're still walking in the middle of the group and Lance is pretty sure half of them are listening in. He still has questions, though.

"We met Zarkon's kid," Lance says, "and he was purple. Keith definitely isn't purple."

"Zarkon is a stronger kind of demon than I am," Krolia says simply. "There are other signs. It's not a surprise Keith has powers, and if he weren't part demon, they couldn't have brought him back like they did."

"You knew about that?" His own damn mother—she said it so _casually._

"I made sure it happened," she says.

Okay. Okay, cool. Keith's mom is a demon and she's the reason he's alive. Great.

"So Honerva was also part demon?" Lance asks, because he doesn't really want to dwell on all of that.

"Not until they brought her back," Krolia says, and okay, Lance doesn't want to dig into that either. They keep walking.

"Did you know when Dad died?" Keith asks finally, eyes fixed on the ground in front of them. It's Krolia's turn to go quiet.

"No," she says eventually. "I didn't."

Keith doesn't say anything more, so Lance doesn't either, until Pidge falls back through the group to join them.

"Sorry to interrupt," she says, "but we need to decide if we're gonna run or not."

Lance takes a deep breath. "Do we have a choice?" he asks. Because yeah, they're all worn out from fighting and being captured and then fighting again, and Keith at least has just been hit with one of those world-flipping revelations, and there's a whole lot he's avoiding thinking about right now, but Zarkon's coming to kill them and then the whole world after. If they run now, what will happen to everyone else in the meantime?

"Strictly speaking, yes, as long as he hasn't found us," Pidge says. No sooner does she say it than there's a shout down the street.

The group trails to a halt. It's Lotor, limping towards them across the trolley tracks and looking rather like he's been run through a meat grinder. His glamour is gone, too.

"He's coming!" he shouts. "He's here!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh and in case you didnt notice.......... we have a chapter count! theres only three more chapters left!!! possibly four but mostly likely three. see yall again soon!! :)


	31. this is it, boys, this is war

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [some nights - fun](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jfThF6cZYo8)
> 
> here we gooooo

"Fight or flight?" Pidge asks urgently.

"Fight," Lance says firmly. She nods and slips away through the group as Lance steps out to meet Lotor; Allura joins him.

"How close?" Lance asks, as Lotor comes to a stop and Allura reaches out to heal him.

"Mere blocks away," Lotor says clearly, and Lance can sense the tension that runs through the group at the words. "Thank you for allowing me the liquid power. It's the only reason I escaped with my life."

"Everyone!" Lance turns. "Get ready to fight!"

"No!" Lotor catches his arm and yanks him back around. "You must run. He's not alone."

Shit. "His inner circle?"

"And a whole army besides. He _will_ destroy us if we stay." Lotor strides on through the group, leaving Allura with hands still raised and dragging along Lance with him. "If you run—spread the word, then perhaps, with enough people on our side—but right now, a dozen-odd supers versus every demon in the city—" He stops abruptly, making Lance run into him, and turns. "Icicle. We will _all_ die here."

"Or we can wait for approximately 27 seconds," Clairvoyant offers.

"What?" Lotor blinks at him. "27 seconds? What are you—"

"There is a 99.97% chance that Windrunner has discovered Authority Tau closed a spawn point," Clairvoyant recites, wringing his hands. "An 87.4% chance that the other supers Pigeon contacted earlier are on their way to help. And a 94.265% chance that if they are coming, more will follow."

Everyone goes quiet.

"27 seconds," Lance repeats. It sounds too good to be true—that _finally_ Windy could be on their side, that reinforcements could be coming to _help_ them.

"Six, now," Clairvoyant says. "Look up."

Lance looks up. Over the abandoned buildings just ahead, a flying demon glides into view. It circles once before it spots them, and then it tilts into a dive with a screech.

And Windy collides with it in midair, knocking it out of the sky.

Someone cheers. Lance glances back to see the rest of Choir Delta coming out onto the street behind them; he faces forward again in time to see Windy land with a thump in front of him.

"Ice, I'm so sorry," she says quickly. "You were right about the spawn—shit. I'm glad you got out of there. You too, Phoenix—Nerve, Duke." She rubs her face. "God. I can't believe it. I'm sorry."

"Better late than never." Keith still looks kind of pale, but he claps her on the back casually enough. "Get ready."

"Ready?"

"So you know how I was right about the spawn?" Lance says. "I'm right about everything else, too. Apparently, Zarkon is on his way to kill us with a demon army." He offers Windy what's probably a really shaky smile, at this point. "Apology accepted, by the way."

She opens her mouth... and closes it again, and nods. "We're with you, then," is what she finally says.

"Good to have you along," Keith responds, and Innervate nods.

"Then we aren't running," Lotor says lowly.

"Look, dude. By all means, make a break for it, if you want," Lance says, gesturing down the street. He can already hear the growling and stomping from the other direction. "But the rest of us are heroes. Maybe we didn't choose to be, but you said it yourself—we're the only thing standing between Zarkon and the world now. And I, for one, am not getting out of his way. Not until he's dead or I am."

"Amen!" Livewire shouts, and he hadn't intended that as a pep talk, but he feels the energy shift—sees everyone straighten up, stretch out, focus in. They're with him, every one—even Krolia, even Thace and Ulaz, even _Coran_ balling his fists with a fire in his eyes.

Lotor takes a deep breath, and then he nods.

"Very well," he says. "I'll stay. I don't suppose you still have my sword?"

"Hydro!" Windy calls. Hydrospear jogs closer and hands Lotor a sword of water, which he takes but eyes with suspicion.

"It's better than if I gave you one," Lance offers. "Mine melt."

"...Right." He steps back and swings it a couple times, eyebrows rising as he does. "This will do, then."

"Fliers!" Pidge calls urgently. Everyone looks up again—there are several more demons approaching from above now.

"Go!" Lance shouts. "We're fighting now!"

Pidge takes off with Windy on her heels, and Keith and Iron both shift and follow. The growls and roars of the incoming army are louder, echoing off the buildings around them so that they almost sound like they're surrounded. The fight begins in earnest above them, and the rest of the demons come around the corner and into the road.

Lotor was right; it's an army. And there, in front of them all, a man in a clean, pressed suit, striding confidently toward them.

Zarkon.

There's a shout behind them—Lance spares a glance and spots Frostbite approaching with the rest of the team they'd fought in the warehouse, and a whole crowd behind them. He glances next at Clairvoyant.

"96.77% that they're here to help," Clairvoyant says.

"Good." Lance looks at Lotor. "Enough of an army for you now?"

"I hope so," Lotor says.

Well, so does Lance. He looks around; there's a lot of them now, but there are so many more demons—and not all of the people on his side can fight. But maybe, if he plans this right...

"Coran!" he shouts. "Clairvoyant! Stay in the middle of the group—unless you have offensive abilities I don't know about, we need to protect you, and I think we're gonna get surrounded. Duke, stay with them. Veronica, stick by Clairvoyant—I need you to use your fog and keep an eye on everything and pass on what he tells you. Hunk—I assume Somnus too—you guys are also on defense. Hunk, _stay_ on defense as long as you can."

"Got it," says Hunk. The rest move into place; the fog begins to rise.

"When the rest of the supers show up, grab Mirage as well. Okay. Krolia, show everyone your demon form for a sec?"

She nods and does so. Lance points.

"Nobody kill her!" he says. "Okay. I need... Shiro, Livewire, Hydrospear. Livewire, see if you can figure out the water-electric-conducting thing with Hydro. You guys are with me—we're going after Zarkon personally. Got it?"

"Got it!" Livewire bounces. Hydrospear nods. Shiro takes a deep breath and nods too.

"Allura, you're on us. Everyone else, you're dealing with the rest of the demons—other healers, you're on them. When everyone else shows up, they're with you, too. Everyone clear?"

Everyone looks nervous, but no one says no. Lance faces front again—some of the demons are running ahead and the first is almost upon them now.

"GO!" he shouts, and the supers go.

There's a roar as the demons surge forward, and the super army behind them charges too. Lance holds out an arm to keep his group back—Zarkon hasn't charged forward with the rest.

"Wait for it," he says as the crowd stampedes past. If they want to have any chance of beating Zarkon—if Zarkon is anything like Sendak was—they need to leave the rest of the demons to everyone else. Ulaz hangs back with them, too.

"I should be able to force him to drop his glamour, when he comes," he says. "You should at the very least know what you face."

"Got it." Lance watches as the supers and demons collide in the middle of the intersection—Obsidian smashing into a demon while Lynx pounces on another, Midknight crashing into another, Frostbite freezing one in its tracks. He spares a glance upward, sees the flaming spot that is Keith take down a demon on his own, and he steels himself and looks away.

And through the chaos, Zarkon still strides forward, unbothered. A super stumbles into his path and he grabs her by the back of her jacket and tosses her aside like she weighs next to nothing, barely breaking his stride.

Welp.

"Get ready," Lance tells his impromptu team, and forward he goes.

The path to Zarkon is a loud and crowded one, but the area around him is clear; he's waiting for them, Lance thinks, because every time Lance looks up he meets his eyes. He and his group spill out into the center of the intersection as Zarkon watches.

"You will be destroyed," Zarkon growls, louder and rougher than any of his TV interviews.

"You realize everyone knows now, right?" Lance points out, maybe more out of habit than anything, because talking will stop some villains but not this one. "Even if you kill us, everyone knows."

"That does not mean they can stop me," Zarkon says. And then he launches himself at them, impossibly fast, and his fist stops inches from Lance's head only because Shiro got a barrier up in time.

Right into it, then.

"GO!" Lance shouts again, and his team springs into action.

Lance darts forward as soon as Shiro's barrier dissipates, icicle in each hand. He swings them at Zarkon like daggers and Zarkon steps back—Hydro hurls a chain of water at him, electrified by Livewire. He darts away from it, so fast it's like he teleports, just like Honerva. Ulaz steps forward.

"Distract him," he says.

"On it." Lance starts flinging icicles. Shiro uses his lightning. Hydro throws spears. Zarkon nimbly avoids it all—when he doesn't block it with a wave of his hand.

"Carefully!" Allura calls nearby—one of Hydro's spears nearly hit a super fighting beyond. Then they have to aim lower—which will only make it easier for Zarkon to avoid them. Shit.

Livewire taps on Lance's shoulder. "I can shift completely," she says. "But anyone who gets close will get zapped. Thoughts?"

Right—her power is like Keith's. "Go for it. Range isn't doing much for us now. Just keep an eye on this guy." He nods at Ulaz and flings another icicle. Zarkon isn't attacking anymore, and that's worrisome—like he’s just toying with them.

Livewire jogs forward, crackling into full electric form. Ulaz slips ahead as well, edging around the fight, and Lance keeps half an eye on him as he throws his icicles.

Lance and Hydro pause their assault to let Livewire dart in, and like this she's almost as fast as he is, zig-zagging after him. Ulaz pulls something from his pocket. He reels back.

"Now!" Livewire zips out of the way, and Ulaz throws. It lands at Zarkon's feet like a smoke bomb, releasing a glittering cloud that quickly engulfs the man.

What leaps out of the cloud at Ulaz is anything but a man. Winged and clawed, spiked and scaly and enormous—a demon unlike any Lance has seen before. He knocks Ulaz down before even Livewire can get in the way.

"Ulaz!" Shiro shouts, and a barrier pushes Zarkon off him—but there are gouges across his neck. Allura is there immediately, face grim.

"Shit," Hydro mutters. Allura and Ulaz vanish, and only she reappears, moments later, nodding back towards where they left the defense team.

And Zarkon stands to his full height, wings twitching and claws dripping. He looks at Shiro with yellow eyes, narrowed and glowing.

Then he leaps again. Shiro shouts and makes a barrier that Zarkon crashes through, knocking him down too. Shiro barely gets another barrier up before Zarkon’s claws sink in.

Lance sprints towards towards them with ice in hands—Shiro's barrier keeps Zarkon's claws mere inches from his body, but with only one arm he can't escape. Lance skids in the glittering dust and collides with them—he ices Zarkon's shoulder before Zarkon flings him off.

Lance tumbles back, rolling to a stop and coughing in the dust. His ice feels harder to summon—he’d bet anything the dust contains luxite, like they haven't had enough of that lately—but Allura helps him up and back in he goes. Livewire and Hydro join him.

"Shiro?!" Lance calls, narrowly dodging Zarkon's claws again only to get rebuffed by his wing.

"Still alive!" Shiro grunts. His barrier is protecting him, but he's thoroughly trapped and probably the only reason Zarkon hasn't broken through is that the rest of them are distracting him. And they can't do anything drastic without Shiro getting caught in it, too.

"You are nothing," Zarkon rumbles, pressing down on the barrier and making Shiro yell in pain. The knife in Hydro's hand bounces off his hide. "We have conquered a thousand worlds before you, and after, we will conquer a thousand more. You are insignificant—a temporary inconvenience. You will not stop us."

"Oh, shut up," Lance mutters. Zarkon shoves him back with a wing again, and Lance stumbles almost into Livewire, who's panting hard and shifted back into her usual form.

"This dust isn't helping," she wheezes.

"We can't exactly lead him elsewhere." Lance gestures around them. The rest of the battle is giving them a wide berth, it's true, but they're still totally surrounded. He jumps back in.

Zarkon's wing keeps him at bay again—as Hydro whales on the other—but he stays close, which means he sees when Zarkon manages to reach around Shiro's barrier. His claws sink into Shiro's remaining arm—then he hisses and retracts as if burned.

"Shiro?!" he calls again. Allura is there and gone again.

"I got it!" Now Shiro's the one reaching around his barrier, swatting at Zarkon's arm. He makes contact and Zarkon hisses again—there are visible fingerprints on his arm, though they fade quickly. Lance jams an icicle through the membrane of his wing while he's distracted.

"Which power is that?" he calls, before Zarkon sends him tumbling again.

"Mine!" Shiro shouts. Then his barrier disintegrates.

Lance scrambles back up to his feet, but Zarkon is reeling back—Shiro's got his hand out, fending him off, and his power must hurt because it’s _working_. Shiro gets to his feet.

Zarkon stays focused on him, and they begin to circle each other. Lance goes in for the attack and gets shrugged off with a flick of Zarkon's wing; Hydro is producing a long chain of watery links while Livewire bounces on her heels beside her. The hole he put through Zarkon's wing is healed.

He should've grabbed more people for this—they're hardly making a dent on this guy. If he wasn't so fixated on Shiro, Allura would probably be a lot busier, too.

No sooner does he think it than Zarkon turns and lunges at Hydro and Livewire. They split, Hydro with a shield of water to block his claws and Livewire shifting into electric form. Shiro rushes in and grabs one of Zarkon's wings—Zarkon throws him off immediately with a shriek that reverberates off the surrounding buildings so loudly the battle around them falters.

A hand lands on Lance's shoulder and he spins; it's Lotor.

"Please," he pants, "allow me to help."

"You realize we're trying to kill your father?" Lance blurts.

"I'm aware." Lotor straightens up, face stony. "But it must be done."

Lance eyes him, keeping the fight in his peripheral vision—Shiro and Livewire are trying to distract Zarkon as he chases Hydro around. Since joining them, Lotor has kept his word; this is a lot to trust him with, but then, trusting Shiro was a bigger leap.

"Okay," Lance says finally. They need the help either way—and if worst comes to worst, Lotor only has his sword.

"Thank you," Lotor says, and he steps forward. Zarkon roars when he sees him.

"Even you," he rumbles, "my own flesh and blood, would dare to defy me?"

"Your reign of terror ends here," Lotor says, and swings his sword.

It's about as effective as the rest of Hydro's weapons have been—which is to say, not much—but it gets Zarkon's attention. Shiro steps back to breathe and ends up by Lance.

"If I still had everything, before I gave all my powers away—I think I could have done it," Shiro pants. "But he's too strong."

"I'd offer you back the hydrokinesis but I don't think it'll do you much good," Lance says. "I don't know what to do but keep at it." Sooner or later he'll wear out—hopefully before they do.

Shiro frowns as Zarkon catches Lotor's sword in his claws. "If it was dark, I could... I don't know. But we can't keep this up forever." Then he jogs back into the fray, hand up and ready for whenever Zarkon gets too close. Lotor is mostly just fending him off—Hydro and Livewire are trying to get the water chain over his wings without success.

If it was dark... Shiro could teleport. Ambush him. But it's the middle of the day and Lance doesn't offhand know of any super who could make even a small area dark enough for shadow-jumping to work. It’s not like they can wait for night to fall, either; they’ll be long dead by then.

He shakes himself out and heads back in, ducking around Hydro to stab an icicle through Zarkon's wing again. He manages to ice around it enough to keep it in for a while before he gets knocked away.

Allura hauls him back up. He glances over her shoulder and sees a handful of supers gathered with the defense group, getting healed—and Midknight among them. Midknight and his shadow armor. Maybe...

"Keep an eye on things for me?" Lance asks, and Allura frowns but nods. He slips through the fray towards the center of the intersection.

"Midknight!" he calls, squirming through the crush of supers to get through. "Can you put armor on other people?"

Midknight squints up at him from where he's sitting. There's a massive scar down the side of his face, covering one eye and trailing into the neck of his armor—so that's what put him out of commission after the Crisis. Lance almost wouldn't recognize him if it weren't for that armor.

"Icicle? Ah, no. Only myself," he says. "Why? Need someone on defense?"

"It's complicated." There has to be a way to work this, though. "...How do you feel about learning to teleport?"

"...Ah." Midknight stands with a groan. "If it's all the same to you, I'd rather be doin' the givin' than the gettin'."

Lance blinks. "The—what?"

"You're offerin' me one of Champion's powers? I'd rather let him have mine. Can't do much good out there anyhow."

Right, Midknight was there in the warehouse—Frostbite would've told him they'd spread Shiro's powers around, if he hadn't seen it himself. And actually, that might work better...

"...Gonna take you up on that," Lance says and turns. "Hey! Anyone else here not wanna fight anymore?"

The gathered supers look at him.

"Fuckin' yeah I don't," Mirage calls, and a few other shuffle forward at that.

"Uh, cool," says Lance. "Just... stay right here. I'll be back in a sec." And he darts back towards the fight with Zarkon again.

**Author's Note:**

> [hi im on tumbls](http://maternalcube.tumblr.com/)


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